A Winter of Summer
by Laire Ankale
Summary: Summer Sundale is a transfer student to Hogwarts from America. She struggles with her past while searching for friends, and ends up discovering them in the most unthinkable place. Severus Snape & original character, pre Harry or AU. SSOC.
1. Chapter One

**Chapter 1**

"Who is she?"

"I don't know. Do you hear her accent?"

"I think she's American."

"Wow. A transfer student!"

"I hope she's not in _our_ house."

Whispers continued throughout the Great Hall as an older student walked in following Albus Dumbledore. Her robes were unadorned with house colors and her eyes were trained to the floor. She was clutching books to her chest, struggling to reach a hand up to push a strand of wavy auburn hair out of her face. She stopped when Dumbledore did, and looked up into his twinkling eyes. Nodding when he said something to her, she headed over to the Hufflepuff table, to the amazement of the resident Hufflepuffs. She sat down as far away from everyone as was possible. Nobody heard a word from her rose lips, and nobody saw a smile draw gentle lines on her ivory skin. So everyone ignored her. Not like it mattered. She was used to it.

Summer was indeed from America. She transferred to Hogwarts when her muggle father was transferred to a navy base near London. She had been attending an American school of magic, and, especially because she was in her last year, wanted to continue her studies. All it had taken was a simple owl from one headmaster to another, and everything was set up. Summer had smiled when she told her father that no, she didn't mind moving. And in a way, she didn't care. Though she knew people in her old school and even considered some of them "friends", they weren't exactly people who noticed her more than someone to help with schoolwork, and they certainly didn't invite her places. Despite this, she didn't relish the notion of leaving even that simple security behind. It was her nobility and loyalty that put her into Hufflepuff, she was told. That must be the reason she didn't refute her father – even though he didn't matter much anyway.

- - - 

Teachers spoke kind words to Summer as the weeks went by. People had grown accustomed to her odd presence and demeanor, so didn't notice her. Boredom started to seep in as the new-ness of the school wore off.

One evening in early December, she finally decided to stop moping around so much, and do something other than the normal schoolwork. Books, while perhaps her best friends, could only do so much. For that was how she had been passing the time – reading. Potions had always been her best subject, and still remained as such, despite Professor Snape's… _encouragement_. Oftentimes she heard other students grumbling about him, but she merely shrugged her shoulders and continued with her assignment, oblivious to his attitude. So why not ask Snape to give her an assignment?

- - -

Saturday morning she awoke to the smell of pine trees. Apparently it was a Hufflepuff tradition to put up a Christmas tree two weeks before the holiday. _Lovely. In time for my birthday. We won't be decorating it, though_, she sighed to herself as she stretched and slowly got out of bed. Summer's feet hit the cold stone and she shivered. Winter had never been her favorite season, and she wasn't accustomed to the stone of the castle. She shook her head and quickly put her slippers on, reveling in the warmth they gave her discomfited feet. _I need coffee._

Summer put on her deep red dressing gown and cautiously headed into the common room. Sure enough, three seventh years were overseeing the placement of two large pine trees. Many other students were laughing and smiling in anticipation of the holiday season. She leaned against the wall away from everyone, and watched in quiet amusement. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the scent of pine needles and smoke – the scent of pure happiness and freedom. A small smile crept over her face, and she opened her eyes only to see some of the students having a fake snowball fight; the snowballs were created from their wands and disappeared after contact. Summer once again shook her head and then went back upstairs to change her out of her pajamas and into a cozy green sweater, which complemented her eyes, and a pair of jeans. _Muggle clothes for the muggle_, she casually thought.

Amazingly, she was able to creep through the common room without so much as a second glance. While used to her odd presence, the Hufflepuffs were ever the social creatures and, in this instance, would have tried to hit her with a snowball. Luckily, Summer escaped this time. She breathed a sigh of relief and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast – and a cup of coffee.

She sat down at the table and quietly ate. The Hall wasn't very noisy, as most students were still enjoying a lie-in. Summer had always been a morning person, and even when allowed to sleep in, would almost always get up before 10-o-clock. So she sat and enjoyed the morning silence, sipping on her pumpkin spice coffee, a holiday favorite. She noticed there were a few teachers at the staff table, but some had already left for the holidays. Snape and McGonagall were chatting, as were Dumbledore and Professor Sprout. Naturally the heads of houses had to stay.

_I need something to do over the break_, Summer thought. As if on cue, Professor Snape got up from the table, reminding her that she had intended to ask him for a project. Quickly finishing the last dregs of her coffee and savoring it, she followed him out of the Great Hall and down towards the dungeons. She walked down the stone halls, her footsteps reverberating off the walls. Her breath came out in wisps, but she simply shrugged and put her hands inside the sleeves of her sweater like she normally would.

When Summer finally reached Snape's private chambers, where she assumed he would be, she knocked on the dark wooden door. The sound of papers rustling and heels clicking reached her ears, muffled through the door. It opened a crack before fully revealing a rather tempered-looking Snape.

"What do you want, Miss Sundale?" he asked in a very irritated tone. She noticed that he looked rather tired, and was leaning against the doorframe, something she didn't think he would do regularly. It almost seemed like he was relaxed – although his temper said quite the opposite.

Summer merely looked up into his dark eyes with a blank look on her face, one which she usually used anyway. It didn't require much effort.

"I was curious as to whether or not you needed any help brewing potions over the holiday." Snape seemed to roll his eyes at her and stared back with a tight scowl on his face. Evidently it was supposed to frighten her away, but after all that she'd been through, not much scared Summer.

Snape glared at her even more before finally answering her request. "I'm not sure why I should allow someone who seems to apathetic to the subject to help me with potions – many of which are beyond the seventh year level. It is highly unlikely that one such as yourself, the _loyal_ Hufflepuff to her friends, would be interested in spending every single day down in the dungeons concocting potions."

Summer rolled her own eyes and sighed. She didn't think it would be_ this_ hard to convince the potions master to allow her to help with work she thought he didn't want to do anyway. _Fine. He wants the reasons, he'll get the reasons_.

"If you honestly want to know, sir, potions happens to be my favorite subject." He started to say something, but she cut him off. "It reminds me of cooking the muggle way." She smiled reminiscently. "When I was young, I would cook with my mother, and I realized that changing the recipe in the tiniest of ways could affect the outcome and taste of whatever was being prepared. So when I started to learn potions, it reminded me of my mother and the joy of making something truly yours, even in a small way.

"As for the other part, I would not have asked for a project such as this if I did not intend to be dedicated to it, or in the words you used, _loyal_." She stood still staring up at him, his face unchanging. He slightly shifted positions while looking her up and down, almost as if evaluating her. After a moment he grunted and quickly turned on his heel to walk back into his room. Noticing that he did not close the door, Summer shrugged and walked in after him.

Professor Snape's quarters were slightly warmer than the dungeons in which they resided. A fire was burning in the hearth on the right-hand wall. A red couch and chair surrounded a low coffee table. Summer had to smile at the though of Snape entertaining any guests in his private quarters; it simply wasn't something anyone would think him even capable of. Turning her head back to her left, she noticed two desks in either corner, both of which were piled high with both papers and tomes – _light reading_, she smirked – and saw Snape sitting behind the one closer to her. Between the two desks a door was hiding. That must have been the entryway to his bedroom.

Forgetting where she was, and who she was with, Summer quickly found bookshelf upon bookshelf of books; many of the like which she had never imagined. She stood in front of the desk Snape inhabited and was looking at each title with wide eyes, the way a child might look at his new toys on Christmas Day. So enraptured was she, that she didn't notice him walk up behind her.

"May I help you with something?" he asked in a silky, yet cruel voice. She quickly turned around and softly smiled, looking down at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Professor. It's just that…" Summer gestured at the books. "There are so many, and they look amazing." She looked back up at him, the scowl firmly in place on his face.

"Indeed," he sneered back. Snape turned again and sat back down. Summer thought for some reason that her behaviour unsettled him, since he never actually frightened her. It was rather entertaining to put the famed Potions Master on his toes. She rather enjoyed it.

"If you don't intend to dally all day, you may start making some Pepperup Potion for Madam Pomfrey right now." He paused as if expecting her to protest the immediate start. Appearing unsettled again, he walked over to a door on the far wall and opened it. "I will allow you to use my personal lab, but mark you this, if I find a hair out of place, I will report you immediately to Dumbledore." He seemed to be leveling a finger at her in admonishment. _Oh this is too much fun_, she thought to herself.

"Yes Professor. I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," she sweetly replied. Without waiting for a response from him, she walked through the door into his personal lab. There were a few wooden tables, along with shelves filled with books, ingredients, vials, and many other artifacts she couldn't quite place.

Summer perused through the books, not forgetting the reason she was in the room in the first place, and found the book she was looking for: Mediwizardry Made Easy by Selma Thurdan. While she had never actually worked with this particular book, it was blatantly obvious that she could find the directions to make the Pepperup Potion within it. Setting to work, Summer flipped through the book (pausing once or twice at something that intrigued her), and finally found the potion she was looking for. It was a rather simple potion, but one which would take all day to fill up all of Madam Pomfrey's stores.

Quietly moving papers and books out of her way, she found the cauldrons and picked out a twelve-inch diameter one. It was pewter, so it was fairly heavy, but she managed to carry it over to the table she had decided to work at – one which enabled her to stare into either room, since she knew this potion had a fairly long brewing period (although not nearly as long as the Polyjuice Potion). Summer deftly found the ingredients she needed, and almost silently began the brewing process; adding four ounces of what she still called "distilled water", grounding the fresh peppermint, adding a few pinches of cocoa. She reveled in the process and the scents surrounding her, closing her eyes as she had done earlier that day in the common room.

Scent was the only thing she ever truly got lost in, which was perhaps another reason she loved potions – it felt _tangible_, according to her first five senses. You could smell it; you could taste it; you could see its crisp color and you could feel its texture. Potions were even audible, if one decided to stop tinkering long enough to listen closely.

Doing just that, Summer sat back in her stool for a moment and with her eyes still closed, allowed herself to get lost within her senses. It almost smelled like a chocolate factory, so strong was the scent of mint and cocoa, although a slight hint of aconite lingered as an after-smell. The soft bubbling of the cauldron sounded like the dull thrumming of a drum, further lulling her into reverie as her mind's eye saw the swirling colors. She could feel herself smiling, and for once, it was a truly serene smile.

- - -

Snape still sat at his desk, much as he had when the dratted Hufflepuff had disturbed his peace. If it wasn't one student, it was another which decided to be slightly more than bothersome. He grunted to himself, realizing that at least he would have one less thing to do over the winter holidays. Glancing up, he saw her sitting near the doorway to the lab, a slight smile on her face – one which made him grimace. If she wasn't actually doing something productive, he might consider throwing her out of his rooms. Scratch that, he knew he _would_. He shook his head, the black lanky hair falling in his face. As he reached up with a slender hand to push it back out of his face, he realized that the bothersome girl had come to stand in front of him again.

He sighed and drawled the best he could, given his current fatigue. "What is it _now_ Miss Sundale?"

She almost seemed to fidget for once. This made Snape feel a little more like himself this morning.

"I realize that it wouldn't have been prudent for me to just get up and walk away, and thus I thought I should ask your permission before going to the kitchens to get some tea. It is teatime, you know," she replied with a smirk. The edge to her voice and behavior was back.

"As much as I'm sure other teachers would appreciate your consideration, I, however, could care less. By the end of the day I will certainly see if your work got done – which I expect it to be, or I shall not allow you further access to my private residence. That said, get gone from eyes before I deduct points from Hufflepuff. Holiday or no." Snape immediately returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, deftly picking up the brown quill and beginning to scratch marks upon the parchments. The only sound that lit the room for a moment was the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of his quill.

More than anything, he felt her leave the chamber when the door opened to let in the damp chill of the dungeons. He glowered in that direction when the chill hit him, but shook his head once again. Oddly enough, Snape had the feeling that Summer was going to be the end of him, one way or another. With that thought, he shuddered and was glad to be rid of the girl, if only for a half hour.

Alas, he was gravely mistaken. Less than ten bloody minutes later she walked back through the door, a flash of color in his otherwise drab room. Her green eyes sparkled slightly and as she turned around after closing the door, Snape realized why. She had decided to bring teatime down here. Upon seeing his scowl and glare, Summer's face sobered slightly as she set the tray down upon the small coffee table by the fire. He watched her fidget again, her fingers toying with the auburn hair that she had actually decided to let down. She pressed her lips together before sitting down on the couch and pouring herself a cup of tea. Snape couldn't help but notice there was another cup and saucer resting in the tray.

_I'll be damned if she drags me into teatime with her. If Albus couldn't for ten years, she has no ability to_, he confidently thought to himself. Almost as if hearing his thoughts, she looked up at him with her dark green eyes and smiled very meekly, almost as if she was embarrassed. A hand gestured towards the empty chair and the teacup.

"I thought… well, since you've been kind enough to allow me something productive to fill my time, I though I should find a small way to thank you. I wasn't sure what kind of tea you liked, so I… asked…" Her words were left hanging as he simply continued to stare at her as if she were insane. Which he almost thought she was. She looked back at him for a moment or two before returning to her cup, her eyes now very intent on the designs offered by it. Her entire demeanor had shifted from earlier in the day.

The afternoon proved to be completely uneventful, as the girl had finally realized to stop bothering him with meddlesome questions. As soon as she had finished brewing and packaging the Pepperup Potion, she had very quickly left his chambers with a small, muttered, "Thank you, goodbye."

Change always disturbed Snape. Especially when it was one which seemed to come out of nowhere, and one which was the complete opposite of what was known. After Summer had offered him some tea, and his silent denials, her entire posture and attitude had shifted from a cheeky, friendly one, to one which could only be described as withdrawn. An emotion he knew only too well.

Snape paused in the middle of a sentence from the novel he was reading. Looking up from the armchair and into the fireplace, he furrowed his eyebrows, and couldn't help but admonish himself for even thinking about the girl. She had helped him, and that was all that mattered. Why should he care about her emotions. He had no reason to. With that slight resolution, his eyes returned to the text and put her out of mind.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter 2**

Summer slept perhaps a little too well that night, and didn't get out of bed until late Sunday morning. It was only when the bright sunshine reached into the seventh year dorms that she finally woke up – around 10am. When she had finally left the dungeons the night before, a familiar queasiness had filled the pit of her stomach, and she had virtually no appetite. It almost seemed as though history was repeating itself for her, but she had quickly shunted that thought to the side. She was determined to at least get through this Christmas. The last thing she wanted was to have old memories brought up again.

Opening her eyes, Summer saw that the yellow curtains of her classmates' beds were still shut. Even though _she_ considered 10-o-clock to be an ungodly late hour, most 18 year olds still considered it to be early. She snorted to herself as she got up and quickly got dressed. With stealth acquired throughout the years, the long tan skirt and red blouse went on without a sound and Summer was through the entrance in a heartbeat.

- - -

The day went much as it had before, with Summer and Snape hardly saying a word to each other for the entire day. That is, until Summer was cleaning up.

A dark shape loomed in the entrance to the lab, casting a shadow where the lab's lighting couldn't reach. Summer went about her work, casting purification charms and cleansing spells to make sure everything would be sterile and uncontaminated for the next day. She didn't want to speak with him. It was all she could do at the moment to stand being around another human being, let alone one whose snarky comments would ravage her to the core when she was in this state. So instead of allowing him that pleasure, she simply ignored him, the way he usually did to his students.

This had quite the opposite intended effect.

"Miss Sundale…" he started silkily. That could only mean trouble. His heels clicked gently as he finally walked into the room. His lanky form moved to where Summer had placed the recently-packaged potion on another table. Snape's inspection of them served only to heighten her anxiety, making her wish he would just go away, or that he would let her leave. But he was blocking the way to the doors.

He grunted, having picked up a bottle of pale green fluid. Turning it in the dim lighting, he ever-so-slightly nodded and placed it back to the container. "Although not exemplary, it shall be acceptable for Madam Pomfrey. I would think that someone who claims to love potions so much would be doing much better." His tone wasn't the normal cutting one; instead it almost seemed matter-of-fact. His dark eyes roved over to where she was still cleaning a cauldron. She didn't look up to meet his gaze, nor did she comment back. They stayed that way for a few moments, Summer getting more apprehensive every second as his gaze lingered on her.

"Sir, if you wish for me to be doing better, perhaps it might be helpful if you could show me the tiny quirks that you have discovered. And if you do not wish to do that, than perhaps 'acceptable' is good enough for me, as it seems to be for Madam Pomfrey." Her ire couldn't be contained any longer, and she believed she had a good point. If he was going to criticize her work, he may as well show her a way to improve it.

"Yes, I should, shouldn't I," he replied, his deep voice rumbling with sarcasm. "What then, would be the point of having you down here, if I am simply going to do the work?" Summer could almost sense a smirk longing to spring upon his lips, were it not for the years of dedication put into hiding all emotions.

She sighed. "Criticism does no good unless I am given a way to improve my work. I would think that someone so _godly_ such as yourself would have realized this by now, as I am certain that you have not achieved your fame alone." His eyebrows had furrowed and his arms were across his chest. Summer finally had the gall to look up at him, her eyes showing no emotion, while his showed something reminiscent of anger. She shivered, not quite understanding what she had done.

"Criticism does no good if one cannot discern the way in which to improve one's own work – _alone_. True knowledge is discovered by the self," he quietly bit back.

"True knowledge is discovered through interaction with the world, including other people. Something you don't seem to want to know much about." She had started softly, but quickly got louder. When she finished, her voice echoed off the stone walls. Summer had to cringe at how shrill she had become. She watched Snape as he walked over to her purposefully. His eyes stared down at her, and she was helpless to do anything other than stare back up at his face. Leaning down so close that she could almost feel the first whispers of his black hair on her cheeks, he gritted his teeth and quietly spoke.

"What I know and do not know, aside from potions, is of no concern to anyone – specifically an arrogant seventh year Hufflepuff."

Summer started to softly laugh. She laughed even more when she saw the look which passed over Snape's features – one of utter confusion. He quickly retreated a few steps, the look very soft and subtle, but still noticeable.

"Yes, arrogant. As if arrogance comes from being able to see the Thestrals. As if arrogance comes from life experience. Call me arrogant if you will, Professor Snape, but I believe I will understand you better than anyone else in this building. This much I have gathered from only three months in your presence." A small but cold smile lingered on her lips as she quietly put away the last cauldron. When she finally looked back up, her eyes were slightly glassy, but the smile remained firmly in place. She didn't know why, but it wouldn't go away no matter what thoughts passed through her mind. Summer shook her head at Snape's look, and merely grabbed her belongings and walked out of his chambers without another word.

She realized that this was perhaps the most she had ever revealed to anyone at Hogwarts, aside from the headmaster, that is. No one else knew she could see the magical creatures that towed the carriages from Hogsmeade. She didn't want anyone else to know.

_Damn him and his remarks_, she silently thought, gritting her teeth as she slowly walked through the dungeons. Her feet seemed to be leading her wherever they wanted, and Summer allowed them to. It wasn't like there was anywhere she could get lost, in this castle. Countless weekends and free hours had been spent exploring the castle in such a way, and thus she thought she knew the castle well enough.

She had been doing so well in forgetting her troubles. Well, not exactly forgetting them, but at least ignoring them. The holidays always brought up sad memories for her, and she never looked forward to having so much time to herself – which was the original reason she had asked Professor Snape for a project. Instead of forcing those thoughts of her mind, he was bringing them into clearer focus. _Damn him!_ She couldn't help but blame him consciously, but Summer knew he was just the catalyst.

Shaking her head, a few tears running down her cheeks, she finally looked at where she was and discovered it to be the astronomy tower. No one was around at this time of day, especially since not too many students were staying over the holidays. It was a cold, but clear day out. Summer took a deep breath, reveling in the clarity and crispness of the air. Snow had fallen a few nights ago, and a light dusting still remained on the tower. Tracing a path through it, Summer walked over to the edge of the tower and looked down over the lake. Being outside always cleared her head, and this case was no exception. She smiled gently at the sight of a few people ice skating on the lake. From this venue, Summer could also see the giant squid under the ice, trying to follow the ice skaters. It was a pleasant scene, but one she was content enough to watch.

_I miss you, Mom,_ she thought to herself, hugging her arms to her chest.

- - -

When she finally decided to leave the solace of the tower, the light was starting to fade. It was all Summer could do to tear herself away from watching the beautiful sunset upon the glittering snow. But she had been standing up there for at least two hours without a cloak, and decided that it would be better to find a quiet corner in the common room and sip some warm butterbeer. As she turned her back on the tower, the sun was just starting to turn a deep orange and was casting a pink glow on the landscape.

Still clutching her arms to her, Summer walked down the steps of the tower and headed towards the Great Hall in order to get to the common room. As she was threading her way down a set of stairs, the last person she wanted to see was approaching her. His black robes signified his approach more-so than his face. She inwardly groaned, while trying her best to avoid looking at him. She wasn't to have that sort of luck, unfortunately.

Snape waited for her to get down to the landing before speaking to her. She shifted uncomfortably, still avoiding looking anywhere near him. Instead, she decided to watch one of the paintings as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"After a rather unpleasant meeting with Professor Dumbledore, I have been ordered to apologize for my comments toward you," he stated matter-of-factly. "That rugged old man knows more than he ought to about what goes on." Summer was still inspecting the painting. After a moment, Snape sighed. "I had no right to accuse you of arrogance, and Albus explained some items of importance to me." His voice had a slight hint of sincerity to it. Sensing this, Summer looked at him with a stern look on her face.

"Don't you ever accuse me of anything, without having information to back it," she replied, a little shakily. It didn't matter how offensive she was at the moment.

In response, Snape merely snorted in affirmation and then walked away. She watched his retreating form until he turned a corner, most likely heading back down to the dungeons.

"Humph," Summer sighed aloud. She crossed her arms over her chest and resumed her course towards the Hufflepuff common room.

- - -

Severus Snape was disgruntled. More-so than disgruntled – he was pissed. Not only did one of his students liken her experiences to those which he himself had endured, and Albus Dumbledore had the audacity to not only _agree_ with her, but he forced Snape to _apologize_ to the impudent child. Severus Snape could not remember any other day in which he was forced to be kind and show something reminiscent of sympathy. It thoroughly disgusted him, because it brought him slightly closer to her. Not like he consciously realized this, but it showed in his dreams that night.

- - -

He woke up earlier than usual after a fitful night of sleep. Sitting up in his bed, he ran a hand through his knotted black hair. Snape didn't know exactly why the silken sheets were twisted about his torso, but he had to fight to get out of them. He placed his feet on the floor, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, then placing his head in his hands. It was too early. Even for him. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Light was seeping in from the high windows that were barely above the ground outside.

He groaned. Snape finally got up and put on his green robe and slippers, walking into his study area to make some coffee. He groaned again when he found the _arrogant_ Hufflepuff already in the lab, doing the next task on the list of potions he had made for her. It was bad enough she had to see him when he was cranky in the mornings, but did she have to arrive so early as to catch him still in his night clothes and gown?

"What, pray tell," he growled at her from the study, "do you think you are doing here at dawn, of all hours?"

She lifted her head from the cauldron and he could see a glimpse of reddish-brown hair as she did so. Her mood from the day before had disappeared in favor of the one he least liked. She was gently smiling at him in a way that made him shudder.

"I couldn't sleep, and since I have such a long list, I thought I would get started earlier than usual." Her tone was light and she merely shrugged as an afterthought, as though that would answer his question.

"That gives you no right to intrude in my quarters. I specifically remember the normal order of things to _knock_ before entering someone else's privacy, and to _leave_ when those knocks are unanswered." He glared at her, hoping to make her cower so that he might reassert his position as teacher. Thoughts of coffee were still in the back of his mind, almost begging him to wait until after breakfast to start his rounds of Snape-ness.

Still not moving from the lab, she shrugged again. "Well, you _did_ tell me the wards to enter into here, so I thought that was at least an invitation to do work when I pleased, if not an invitation to socialize." She grinned at him slightly, a twinkle in her eye – it reminded him of the way Dumbledore twinkled. Sighing inwardly, realizing that his coffee would have to wait a while longer, Snape finally walked over to the entrance of the lab. She already had one cauldron set up, the potion bubbling at a simmer; another one was to her right-hand side, just ready to begin preparation. She had been here for quite some time, probably well before dawn.

He watched her tilt her head slightly, some hair falling loose from the bun she had placed it in, and gently resting on her shoulder. Raising an eyebrow at her earlier statement, he started his reply. "For someone who believes they can understand me," he drawled, "I'm sure you would realize that I do not _socialize_." The girl giggled at his statement, placing a hand over her mouth in attempts to either muffle the sound or hide her grin. Either way, the effect was nonexistent.

Snape rolled his eyes at her reaction. "And what is so funny?"

"I had the same thoughts when I saw the couch and chair by the fire," she stammered between giggles. It was more than he could deal with at such an hour.

"Well I certainly do not intend to entertain a troublesome student, and as such, I expect you to _knock_ next time. Do not make such presumptions again." With that, he turned on his heels and walked back into the study, satisfied that he had made his point.

He decided that it wasn't worth the effort to change into his usual robes since Sundale had already seen him in his pajamas. With that thought, he finally gave in to the headache that was slowly forming due to a lack of caffeine.

He padded his was over to the mantle of the fireplace and found the percolator and coffee grounds he always kept stocked. Sitting down on the couch, he muttered "_aguamenti_", filling the percolator with fresh water, and started the brewing process. Shortly thereafter, the fresh smell of vanilla coffee started to fill the rooms and anticipation filled Snape. This was perhaps his favorite time of day – _usually_ he had solitude, but as long as the girl kept quiet, he could pretend she wasn't even there and enjoy the silence offered by the quickly rising sun.

"Do I smell vanilla coffee?" Summer's voice reached him. He cringed. This was just going to be one of those days, he could tell.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," he sarcastically replied, drawing on one of his favorite muggle phrases. "As a matter of fact, yes. I am brewing some French Vanilla coffee." He looked over to the lab and saw her head poking out the entrance. A sheepish smile was on her face, almost looking out of place from her usual grins. She continued to stare at him without saying anything, apparently wanting to.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Out with it, Miss Sundale. I don't have all day." Actually, he did, but he would rather pretend he had better things to be doing.

"Well… I haven't had any coffee all day, and I was wondering if I could… well, join you and have a cup?" She had come to stand in the entrance now and was shifting her feet uncomfortably.

Remarking on the fact that she actually _did_ wish to socialize with him, he grudgingly nodded, only to see her scamper into the study and quickly sit down in the armchair the way an excited child might. There were many things about her that reminded him of a child, but at the same time, like the night before, she proved that she was indeed an adult. Snape still couldn't fathom how it was possible to be so childish and mature at the same time.

In the moment he was lost in his thoughts, the coffee finished brewing. He shook his head at himself and poured a cup for himself. Summer tilted her head at him, as if expecting him to pour her a cup as well.

"You wanted the coffee, and I made it. That does not indicate that I must supply the cup and sugar as well." He shot her a dark look before taking a sip of the long-awaited drink. There was nothing better than a hot mug of coffee on a cold winter's morning.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her take out her wand after shrugging, and conjure up a cup and saucer, as well as cream and sugar. He rolled his eyes at her, the image of "coffee in your sugar" coming to mind.

They sat that way for quite some time, neither saying anything – which was the way Snape preferred it. The girl was curled in the armchair, looking rather tired. Snape briefly thought that perhaps she hadn't slept all night, but as soon as the thought came to him it flitted out of mind.

"Thank you for yesterday," she said softly. "I mean… I know that Dumbledore made you apologize, but it still was very kind of you." Snape looked back over at her when she said this, an eyebrow raised at her. She had her knees huddled to her chest, arms resting on them. Her green eyes glanced quickly over in his direction before continuing to stare at the fire.

He snorted. "Meddling old man." When he said that, he saw Summer briefly smile.

The silence had eased into a bearable atmosphere, not the one which was stressful a few moments ago. Sighing to himself and rolling his eyes, Snape continued drinking his coffee.

- - -

**_Author's Note:_** Thanks to all who have been leaving reviews – especially since I put this story up two days ago! I really didn't expect so much for an OC story, so I really appreciate it, and it definitely motivates me to keep writing. Thanks again. Chapter Three in the works!


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter 3**

Sitting in the armchair, the fire crackling happily, Summer couldn't remember a time when she felt more at peace with herself. She slightly laughed a little inside, realizing that she was in Snape's sitting room, with him a mere four feet away from her. The only other times when she felt this secure, or some semblance of it, were when she was outside, all alone. It was very ironic, in her opinion, that she could be sitting so comfortably with a person so sarcastic and cold and not feel any anxiety. She huddled closer to her knees, closing her eyes and reveling in the warmth that wasn't entirely from the fire.

The silence stilled the air while the two of them continued to drink their coffee. Before long, though, a yawn escaped Summer and she struggled to reach a hand up in time, in attempts to dissuade it. Unsuccessfully, the sound broke the stillness and she saw Snape glare at her, his dark eyes uninviting.

"Knocking aside, you still have not revealed the reasons for your early invasion of the sanctity I call peace," he remarked, after noticing her yawn. "It certainly appears as though you would prefer to be in bed, like most abhorrent teenagers."

Summer shrugged, a trait she realized she did slightly too often.

Her voice was soft and gentle, despite his insinuations that he did not want her there. "I couldn't sleep." It was a blatant answer, and a half-truth. She usually avoided lying at all costs.

Snape sighed in exasperation. "That much would be obvious. It is also equally obvious that you need sleep. It would be a shame if your potions went bad due to a lack of attention."

"Why Professor Snape – I didn't realize you cared!" she burst out loud, laughing afterwards. She really did have too much fun teasing the potions master, especially since it appeared as though no one else had the gall to; most likely from fear of detracting from their grade. Her laughter died down into a small case of the giggles as she watched his reaction. Snape's face had gone taut, his lips pressed in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed. He casually reached up to place a strand of black hair back into its lock, before biting back at her.

"Were I not your teacher, that remark may have deserved a hex. One of a painful kind."

But Summer knew better than to believe him. His insults never actually amounted to anything. The more time she spent in his presence, the more she learned of his sense of humor, which mostly consisted of sarcasm. So rather than taking this personally, she merely smiled at him.

"Might I suggest the Twitchy Ears Hex?" she offered helpfully, still giggling. She was baiting him, desiring to see his reaction. It was fun to put people on edge – at least when they usually evinced no sense of humor.

This earned her a glare, which only made her laugh harder. Snape placed his coffee mug on the table without taking his eyes off her. Summer's laughter subsided into a grin and she finally released her legs from their position against her chest. Tilting her head at him, her auburn hair gently falling to one side, she looked imploringly back.

"As I am sure you already realize, the Twitchy Ears Hex is not _painful_ as I suggested." Ever the one to state the obvious, Snape delicately enunciated each word, as if to make sure his meaning was clear. Summer merely shook her head.

"I do apologize to be ending this lovely conversation, but my task awaits me," she said matter-of-factly before getting up out of the chair, smoothing out her pants. She did a slight curtsey while grinning and then turned to walk into the lab. She could feel Snape's face of confusion as she passed out of his line of sight, and she couldn't help but feel merry. Her birthday was in a few days. She should try to feel merry anyway.

- - -

And so the next week passed in much the same manner as that morning did. The pair seemed to realize that if they were to work in the same space, they would require some semblance of order and concentration. Usually speaking, that required an almost friendly atmosphere. Thus, Summer would pick at him in an almost too friendly manner, and Snape would retort back scathingly, although Summer knew he didn't mean it. Perhaps to other students he did, but she had never done anything which would require his loathsome behaviour.

As such, when Summer turned 18 a few days before Christmas, she didn't have an _entirely_ unpleasant day, since she had long since forgone the hope of being treated special, like most children were on their birthdays. Unhappy thoughts were slowly bogging her down as the true holidays drew nearer, and her birthday merely served as a reminder that days which were once happy ones, were only filled with memories she wished to forget. Potions made her withdraw into an alternate universe, for her, and she reveled in the time she was able to spend in the dungeons.

Christmas day arrived, and this was not unlike the others before it.

- - -

For once, the other students got up early. The only reason they did so was to open up their gifts. Summer could hear them rustling around and then the other seventh year girls laughing and talking to each other. She inwardly sighed and turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling. _It's Christmas. Again,_ she thought. Shaking her head at herself, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It was only when the other girls had gone running downstairs to the common room that Summer peeked out of her curtains to verify that she was alone.

She solemnly got dressed in her most muggle clothes – a black t-shirt with a dragon on it, a teal zippered hoodie, and jeans. Every Christmas for the past four years she had been wearing this outfit, and she wasn't about to change her private tradition for Hogwarts, even though the shirt and hoodie were in ratty condition. They used to be her mother's and it was her private way of remembering her mother and including her on Christmas.

Summer shook her head at her thoughts, trying not to dwell on them. Instead, she snuck as quietly as she could through the common room. It wasn't very difficult to go unnoticed, due to the fact that the remaining students were enraptured by the gifts they had received from parents and loved ones. Scoffing at herself, Summer exited the Hufflepuff dormitories and walked across the hallway towards the Great Hall, and then down a flight of stairs into the dungeons. She had no appetite this morning, and didn't particularly wish to be around other people. The best place to do that, in her opinion, was the dungeons. So she wound her way through the familiar passageways, hoping that perhaps this Christmas she could escape from her thoughts.

When she approached the door, a small smile crept into her features, and she reached a hand up and knocked lightly. While it was somewhat early (perhaps 8 in the morning), Summer knew that Snape would be awake. He was like her, in that respect.

The door opened after a moment to reveal a rather unhappy looking Snape. When he saw her, his face shimmered in half-surprise for a split second, before resuming his usual glare.

"What are you doing here?" he gruffly asked. Summer looked to the stones on the floor, then back up to his dark eyes.

"I wanted to do some more work," she stated in a small voice. _Please just let me. I need it_, she thought, almost voicing the thought aloud. Her hands came together to start playing with the fingernails, her eyes trailing after them.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her through his glare, as if disbelieving her. "Perhaps it has not been brought to your attention," he started evenly, "but this _is_ the 25th of December, usually known as Christmas Day."

"Yes, I realize that. And I was hoping to do some work, regardless of what day it is," Summer retorted. "I thought that perhaps someone in your position would understand that no matter the day, work is still able to be done." _Because you really are a Scrooge_. Snape merely continued to stare at her, and she determinedly stared back, a scowl forming. He snorted and finally opened the door, almost grudgingly. Breathing a sigh of relief, Summer walked in and he closed the door behind her.

As always, the warmth of the rooms was welcome after the chill of the dungeons. Summer watched as Professor Snape sat down on the couch and poured himself a cup of coffee. She breathed another sigh of relief, knowing that he would not expect her to partake in Christmas activities or cheer. A brief glance to her left did, however, reveal a slight stack of gifts sitting upon one of the already-cluttered desks – most of them from the other professors, she assumed. Except for one, Summer knew, which she herself had sent.

The scowl slightly formed again as she went to sit in the armchair. This was a regular morning occurrence, but evidently one which Snape had not planned on this particular day, as there was only his mug of coffee. He had taken to actually setting out a cup for her as well, after that first morning.

Twirling his wand, another cup appeared, as well as cream and sugar, which he never touched. Summer picked up the cup and poured her own mug of coffee, adding what she considered necessities to it. As she sipped on it, she saw Snape staring into the fire. _Well, at least I'm not the only one who loathes this day_, she grimly thought to herself. The two sat in silence for quite some time, until Snape grunted, apparently coming out of his reverie.

He turned to look at her, dark hair falling across his shoulders. He cradled his cup in both hands, the fingers neatly wrapped around the cylinder as if from years of experience. Appearing at ease, he had leaned fully back into the couch, almost slouching, his black robes splayed out to either side, revealing that his usual black slacks and shirt hadn't been placed on underneath the robes, rather he was still wearing his silken green pajamas. This showed even more that he had not expected any visitors.

"It appears as though no work is getting done, Miss Sundale," he began sinuously. She merely looked at him, then stared back at the fire. He followed her gaze, then looking back at her, continued, "If I am not mistaken, that was your original intent, was it not?" She nodded in reply, still not looking at him. "Or might I infer that perhaps you merely wished to escape from the festivities that more often than not are bound to occur today?" At that statement, she looked at him and sighed.

"Both of your statements are true," she replied finally, not elaborating but rather taking another sip of coffee.

"Ah, I see. What I still do not understand, is why you are not upstairs and opening your gifts, as it is apparent that you just recently got up. Surely you were expecting gifts like every other student." At that, Summer laughed lightly in a cold manner.

"Oh yes. Gifts." She placed her mug down on the small table and turned to look at Snape, her green eyes dark with pain then shook her head, looking back down. "Gifts generally require friends and family." At Snape's curious look, she continued. "My father is virtually non existent, which is why I stayed over the holidays. Last Christmas he gave me a card. No, it wasn't even a card. It was note which merely said, 'I'm sorry for not giving you what you want.' And any friends that I had made while back in school in America simply never cared enough for me to buy me gifts – either for my birthday or the holidays, despite how many I showered upon them. My sister is a muggle, and while we were once close, we drifted apart when she got married and started her own life and family." Her gaze fluttered up to Snape, a cold smile plastered on her face. "And lastly, the only person who I feel ever loved me _unconditionally_, my mother, passed away when I was in my third year." She paused, taking a deep breath. "So no, Professor Snape. I suppose I was not expecting any gifts." Her gaze returned to the fire, satisfied that she had satiated his curiosity about her life. _It's all his fault for reminding me_, she thought.

- - -

Snape merely gawked at the girl. This was hardly the response he had expected, especially because under normal circumstances she appeared to be a _happy_ person, if not happy-go-lucky. He shook his head at himself, and finally understood her comment from the previous week. "I believe I will understand you better than anyone else in this building," was what she had said. _Indeed_, he sneered to himself, even now knowing her story; or at least the broad aspects that she had so willingly divulged. Perhaps she would understand him slightly better than other students, but it was still presumptuous of her to assume such things. Regardless, Snape had seen a small packet from her in the few gifts even _he_ had received, and couldn't understand her kindness after apparently being treated so cruelly from people she had once loved and trusted.

He stared at her, not knowing what to say for once in his life. Watching as she softly shook her head, red hair lightly flying out to the sides, he couldn't help but wonder at the strength such a person must possess to stay happy after all that had occurred.

Summer stood from the chair and hugged her hoodie close to her body. "I ought to leave," she quietly said, then walked to the door. Snape sighed inwardly, and realized that Dumbledore would have his head if he didn't do _something_ to make the girl feel better. It was Christmas, after all.

He pointed his wand towards one of the bookshelves. "_Wingardium Leviosa_." One of the books rose from the shelf, and Snape directed it towards Summer, whose back was now turned towards him, hand paused at the door handle. Flying over her head, the book hovered directly in front of her face, the title clear to her view. _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms_. He figured it would be something she might enjoy, as she was a muggle-born and therefore not exposed to things such as family-charms.

Her hand still paused at the doorknob, she finally reached up to grab the book and stare at it. From his venue, Snape could see her hands shaking slightly. She simply stood there for a moment, and Snape wondered idly if perhaps she was going to stand there all day. But as soon as he thought it, she turned around a little and fell to the ground. He immediately stood up and took a few steps towards her, hoping she hadn't fainted. Unfortunately, she had not done that, but something, in his opinion, far worse. She was huddling to herself – crying.

He didn't know what to do with that. He would take her stubbornness and happy remarks over crying any day. Watching her, he tried to think of something to do other than stare. In a frenzy, he tried to remember where he kept his handkerchiefs. He hardly ever required them, except perhaps when he had accidentally cut himself with a knife, but that hadn't happened for quite some time.

Snape ran over to one of his desks and opened the drawers, finding one on his third attempt. Grabbing it, he walked over to Summer and crouched down to where she was sobbing and handed it to her. She didn't appear to notice him, and it took a little cajoling on his part for her to take it. When she finally did, her soft hand brushed against his, damp with tears. Snape shuddered slightly and tried to shrug the feeling away. No one had touched him, even in the briefest of ways such as this, since he had received the Dark Mark.

Shaking himself of emotion, he watched her sternly for a moment as she used the kerchief to wipe her eyes and face.

"If you are quite finished, let us hope that the salinity has not damaged the book in any way," he said to her when she stopped. Surprisingly, she weakly smiled back, staring at her hands and the book they still held.

"Thank you." It was a whisper, and as close as Snape was to her, he could barely hear her voice. He stood up and walked back over to the couch, satisfied that he had done what was required of him. He could hear her shuffle slightly as she uneasily stood up, as well as a rather long sigh.

Almost snorting to himself, he asked, "Are you going to finish your coffee, or shall I be forced to pour it down your throat so it doesn't go to waste?" Sarcasm always solved his issues with people. And on top of that, he was still trying to gather his wits about him. She always found some idiotic way to put him on edge.

She chuckled a little and sat back down in the armchair. He carefully watched her as she brushed her hair out of her face and picked up the cooling mug, bringing it to her flushed face. As he watched her take a sip, he turned his cool gaze to the fire. _At least that ordeal is over with_, he thought.

- - -

**_Author's Note: _**Well, another chapter said and done smiles Yay! I really tried to keep Snape in character, but I do apologize if he does seem a little _too_ caring. I'm not used to controlling such an angry, bitter character. If anyone has suggestions for keeping him in better character, while still trying to develop a relationship, I would be most welcome to them!

If you couldn't tell, with my updates, I'm definitely having too much fun writing this, and completely procrastinating with my schoolwork. Well, I have all weekend I suppose. Oh well. Harry Potter comes first, in my opinion


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter 4**

_A large, happy family sat on a curving couch, the Christmas tree taking up a corner of the living room. Three young girls sat on the floor, tearing at their gifts happily. The older one was a little more careful, but the middle and youngest squealed with glee at the gifts their grandmother had given them._

_The parents of the two older ones sat, looking on happily, as was the mother of the youngest; the two women being sisters. Music was playing in the background, and nobody fought._

_This was Summer's favorite time of year. Everyone was together and happy, and just enjoyed everyone's company for the sake of family._

- - -

_Two weeks after a later Christmas, Summer was ready to leave on the plane for school within a few days. She had taken up her muggle habit of being on the computer while at home, whenever her older sister allowed it._

_A young girl with short, spiky auburn hair sat at the computer, her face a little rounder and her body a little leaner than the girl who had just turned 18. Her back was to the door as she sat, typing away to her muggle friends. When she heard a noise from her parents' bedroom, she looked and saw her lean father pushing her sick mother in a wheelchair. Summer's mother had had a slight stroke the night before, so couldn't walk very well. Her father was taking her mother to the hospital to get it checked out._

"_We'll be back later," her father said as they went out the door._

"_Okay, see you," was Summer's reply._

_- - -_

_The phone rang. Dread filled Summer._

"_Summer, come upstairs." It was her father's voice, calling from her grandmother's space upstairs._

_Bolting up the stairs, Summer ran into the living room. Her father and grandmother were sitting on the couch, each crying. Summer's green eyes looked from one to the other, knowing she didn't want to hear what had happened._

"_Mom died," were the only words to pass through her father's lips, a scant whisper which broke Summer's heart._

_She hadn't even said goodbye to the person dearest in her heart._

_- - -_

_Summer was sitting in front of a grocery store, just having gotten off work from her summer muggle job. She had gotten off work at ten pm, and was waiting for her father to pick her up. He was usually late, but this was getting ridiculous. Finally, around 10:45 one of the managers ended up giving her a ride home._

_Her father was asleep in bed, most likely sleeping off all the alcohol he had consumed, as he did every night._

_- - -_

"_See! This is why I don't like to tell you things! All you _ever_ do is criticize me! It makes me feel like I'm not good enough!" Summer screamed at her father, the two of them standing in the small kitchen of an apartment that they had been forced to move into, after her mother's death, as well as her grandmother's a year later, four days before Christmas._

_Summer stormed out of the kitchen, throwing her report card on the table, and walked into her room, closing the door. This was the first time she had ever said anything to her father about how he made her feel. She had been showing him her grades, which apparently weren't good enough for him, even though in muggle terms it would have been a 3.3 GPA._

_- - -_

"_I love you," Summer whispered into the ears of her best friend – the only man she had ever loved. He was holding her close, crying on her shoulder. His own mother had just passed away, and she couldn't bear to see him go through the pain she knew too well._

"_I love you, too," he replied. But Summer knew he only meant it as friends._

_A few months later he specifically told her as such, breaking her heart more than it had already been broken._

_- - -_

A figure bolted upright in her bed, a cold sweat hanging on her forehead. She pushed her hair out of her face, a few tears forcing their way out of her eyes, despite how hard she tried to keep them away. She shook her head and lay back down to attempt to go to sleep.

_Damn dreams and damn Snape for giving them to me_, Summer thought to herself as she drifted back into a fitful sleep, this time not remembering the memories that filled her sleep.

- - -

Summer finally awoke again at dawn, the golden dew seeping through the crystal window, filling the already yellow room with light. Her eyes were bleary, and as she tried to sit up, a headache finally made its presence known. Confused for a moment, Summer bit through the pain and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Then it all flooded back to her – the dreams of the night before which had caused her to cry; which was why she had a headache.

And it was all Snape's fault. She had intended to escape from it all and wanted to forget that it had been Christmas, a time she had once loved more than anything in the world. And now it was the time of year she hated the most, because her father was never around, and the rest of her family had drifted away after her grandmother's death.

She bit back the nausea that was seeping its way into her stomach. It always happened when she got upset. Summer took a deep breath and shook her head, the red waves blurring her vision for a moment. When she finally got up, she almost welcomed the chill of the stones on the floor.

After having gotten dressed, she walked out of the dormitories and into the hallways. It was calm. Everyone was still asleep, most likely from all of the parties that had been occurring the night before. Summer still couldn't understand why the other students loved drinking so much butterbeer as to get drunk.

She made her way to the Great Hall and sat down heavily to the small breakfast which had been set up for early risers such as herself. As she cut out a slice of grapefruit, she noticed a few figures entering – all of them teachers. The last one to enter was Snape.

Seeing his dark figure, Summer couldn't help but start to feel overwhelmed again. While he had brought back all of the memories she so desired to keep hidden, he had been the only one to show her kindness. The small gesture of giving her a book had been more than she could have handled. Perhaps he didn't know it, but it was a thoughtful gift at that; one which she hadn't expected coming from anyone, especially him.

Her eyes were trained to the plate in front of her, her thoughts slowly wending their way through the holidays, and all the time she had spent in his presence. He was the only one she felt comfortable around, and the only one who seemed to accept her humor as it was. She recalled the morning they had coffee together, and couldn't help but smile weakly at the looks he had given her when she asked to join him. It had been one of surprise, and not of contempt. It was almost as if he accepted her presence for what it was, and didn't question it.

Her heart sank again as she realized that these thoughts were futile. He was a teacher, and nothing more. Nothing more could come of it. Although she desperately was starting to wish otherwise. His sarcastic remarks were never completely derogatory when directed towards her – quite the opposite, in Summer's opinion. It almost appeared as though he was attempting to be humorous. And this merely made Summer's heart sink even further. His personality was one which she could see herself being constantly around, despite what other people thought of him. It didn't matter anymore, to her, what others thought.

Throughout her thought processes, she had been slowly eating a light breakfast, and she finally finished. She quickly looked up to the head table and saw Snape looking at her. Looking down to the floor, blushing slightly at her ridiculous thoughts, Summer got up and walked out of the Great Hall.

Her feet started to carry her to their favorite spot when she needed to clear her mind. The astronomy tower. The air was chilly, especially because it was only an hour or two after dawn, but Summer let it wash her worries away. It was almost a form of meditation for her, and she merely let her gaze wander from the Forbidden Forest to the lake, and from there to the Quidditch Pitch. As much as she usually disliked the Cold, she couldn't help but revel in the beauty that was winter. Since it was a clear day out, the slanting sunlight cast beautiful shadows over the sparkling white snow, with the occasional black figure flying from one tree to another. The peace managed to clear her mind somewhat. That is, until the main part of her thoughts disrupted her.

"I trust that the late night parties have not given you an ungodly hangover," Snape drawled as he finished walking up the stairs. Summer's brow furrowed at his statement, unsure whether it was supposed to be sarcastic or caring.

"Did we not have this discussion last night, Professor Snape? That would actually require friends," she retorted back. He was about to push her to the limits of niceties, and he didn't want to see her when she was angry. Her father had only seen the tip of the iceberg last Christmas.

"Ah, yes. I suppose we did have that… _discussion_. I would more so call it a soliloquy of sorts. One which I did not need to hear, might I add," he responded scathingly. Unless she was greatly mistaken, Summer couldn't help but hear the bitterness in his voice through the elaboration of the night before.

She took a deep breath, trying her hardest not to lose control again. Her pride almost always got the best of her, and she didn't want anyone, especially him, see her break down – again.

"Had you not raised the question, I would have been perfectly happy to continue brewing potions. So do not try to blame yesterday's disruption on me," she snorted quietly. Her arms were crossed over her stomach, trying to calm the pain which was slowly starting to fill it. Summer turned her back to him, in attempts to show that she didn't want to speak of it.

"Pardon my astute memory, but it was you who originally came to me. So were it not for the fact that you had asked for chores in the first place, said conversation would not have taken place at all. So I feel it is quite correct to blame you for yesterday's disruption, as you called it."

Summer whirled around and looked back at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Her cheeks were flushed, making her look slightly ill since her skin was normally very pale. Clenching her fists at her side, Summer couldn't help but simply stare at Snape. His usual black robes were swirling slightly in the cold breeze and his arms were crossed over his chest. No expression could be read on his face. _It almost looks like he's enjoying himself. The sadist,_ Summer thought. _Just when I thought that maybe he cared a little. He couldn't care less_.

Her lower lip turned red as she bit it, running past him and down the astronomy tower stairs. It didn't matter anymore who saw her crying as she ran through the corridors. She didn't even know where she was going, since her normal relaxation area was occupied by the man who was causing her all this pain.

She ended up outside again, this time near the lake. She sat down on a rock amidst a copse of trees, looking down at the ice which would melt come spring.

No one cared. She didn't have any friends. Her family was nonexistent. The one person she had started to care for virtually rejected her. She had been trying for almost four months to regain what little she had had back home in America. But it was all for naught.

She laughed bitterly to herself, the wind carrying the sound. Who would know what happened to her? The headmaster would. And perhaps he would be the only one to show remorse. But it didn't matter! Everything she had been trying for in the past few years didn't amount to anything. What were accomplishments and good grades if there wasn't anyone to share them with? What use was it to try anymore?

Crying to herself and looking up at the brightening sky, Summer made her decision. Snape had been allowing her to use a battered old textbook that was out-of-date. It had some rather interesting propositions in it.

- - -

_Damn damn damn_, Snape thought to himself as he gritted his teeth, stalking through the hallways. Students fled from his presence, and a first year even cowered behind a statue. Although this made him feel slightly more composed, it didn't help the fact that he was responsible for whatever had made Summer flee from him. It wasn't like he had said anything out of the ordinary, was it? He ground his teeth and gripped his wand tightly, knuckles turning white.

_Where the hell could she have gone? Think, Severus. She really is more like you than you want to believe. Where would _you_ go if you were upset?_ Then it finally hit him. Outside.

Snape briskly walked to the entrance of the castle and out of the oak doors. He trudged through the snow, thinking of possible hiding places that were within school limits. Having known her for even such a short amount of time, he knew that she wouldn't break the school rules. She was always being so damn nice and righteous. He snorted at the thought of being nice, but shook his head. He had thought that any human companionship, aside from Dumbledore's insertions, was beyond hope. Oddly enough, the cheery Hufflepuff had been able to insinuate her way into his life. And he had let it happen.

Just as his thoughts were turning warm, his legs were turning cold due to melting snow creeping up his pants. Disgusted, Snape looked down and cast a drying charm. When he looked back up, he saw a glint of golden-red from between some trees. It was the exact hue of Summer's hair.

Not quite sure why, Snape started to run over to where he had seen the glint. The cold started to reach him through the heavy robes, but he kept running until he was able to see through the trees. He watched as Summer stood up from the rock she had been sitting on, her face wet with tears and even more flushed than it had been when she ran from him on the astronomy tower.

He stood watching, while trying not to pant so loudly as to attract her attention. The last thing he needed was for her to know that he was worried about her. So he bent over slightly, regaining his breath. When he tore his eyes away from her lithe form, he finally heard her say something.

"_Sectumsempra!_" she quietly breathed. Snape's dark eyes immediately shot up, only to see her wand pointed at herself. The snow surrounding her turned crimson as the wounds on her body bled. As soon as she had spoken, she fell to the ground limply.

_Oh no_, were the first thoughts to race through Snape's mind.

- - -

**_Author's Note:_** Yay! I finally finished it. Sorry for taking so long. I think I needed a slight hiatus after writing so much within such a short period of time. Anyway, onto the chapter…

I do apologize that it's so dramatic (but hey! The story is listed under 'drama' anyway :P ), but it's all for development of the plot (what plot? Haha). Anyway. I didn't just come up with all of this on my own, as the dream sequences are all my experiences, which is why I tried to make them as realistic as possible. I hope they fit well into the story (I think they do). So yes. Thanks for reading. As always, reviews are quite welcome :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter 5**

Two voices were talking, one masculine, one feminine. It was almost as though they were speaking in a hazy dream.

"Has anyone been to see her?" the male voice asked.

"No." Her voice sounded sympathetic, and almost sad. "The only person to come has been Severus. Obviously Pomona Sprout has been informed, since she's her head of house, but nobody has stopped by to give her cards or flowers. I'm not sure I've ever seen this…" her voice trailed off.

"Very sad, indeed," the masculine voice replied.

- - -

Snape sat by the bed in the hospital wing. Summer's red hair was splayed out on the pillow, but her face was clearly visible. Light lines marred her now-lighter face, giving her a much older appearance. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was soft and gentle. Snape had to resist the temptation to place a strand of hair back from her face.

He had never realized that he cared – at least not until she was almost gone. And he damned himself for caring. She was a student, and would be leaving in a few months to start her own life. _Or what's left of it_, he morosely thought. He still couldn't imagine what had led to her to use the spell he had invented in his seventh year. Shuddering at the thought, he sat upright in his chair.

He shook his head at himself. It was his fault. Again, that someone had been hurt. But there wasn't much he could do for her. At least he had been able to stop the bleeding quickly, and bring her to Madame Pomfrey. That day in the snow would haunt his dreams for quite some time.

Snape still wasn't quite sure why the sight of her green, sparkling eyes melted a little bit of the snow that had surrounded his heart, or why her smile made him want to smile back at her. There was just something about her that was different from all other women who had come into his life before, which wasn't many to say the least. Maybe it was because she really _did_ understand him slightly, or because Summer wasn't afraid of him. Whatever it was, he didn't want to undo it.

- - -

When Summer awoke, it was late afternoon, the day after her suicide attempt. She felt weak. Extremely weak.

"Well good afternoon Miss Sundale!" a cheery voice greeted her. She opened her eyes and looked to her right, where Albus Dumbledore was sitting in the chair next to her bedside. Summer shook her head and tried to sit up. "Ah ah ah!" Dumbledore chided her. "I'm not sure you have the strength yet to sit up." He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping her lying down.

She merely looked at him, with a little contempt. She didn't want to speak with him, or with anyone for that matter. She didn't want to be here.

"Oh dear Summer!" he started with a small smile and his eyes twinkling. "Things must have been very bad for you," he said sympathetically. "I'm not sure exactly what led you to use extreme measures, but please remember that everyone is here to help you." His bright blue eyes look inquisitively at her. Summer avoided his gaze by looking at the beds across from hers which were all empty and neatly made. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I realize perhaps that an old fogy such as myself may not be the best person to confide in, but others, on occasion, have found the experience rather enlightening." He smiled sweetly at her, and she felt a little sick for it but refused to give in.

"Perhaps it is not me you wish to speak with, but Severus." Dumbledore spoke softly in a way which implied that he knew even more than she did. Summer couldn't help but let her eyes flicker over towards him at the mention of Snape. Her heart still ached along with the cuts along her body. "Ah, I thought perhaps it might be as such. I certainly hope that you won't let everything tear you to pieces again, and if not me, I hope that you speak with someone." He sat still for another moment before adding, "Well, I shall leave you now." Dumbledore got up, his light robes rustling slightly. The scent of lemon reached Summer, most likely from all the lemon-drops he carried in his pockets.

Without another word, Dumbledore left her alone. She really didn't care anymore. She was numb, and all she wanted to do was stare into nowhere, since she couldn't fall back asleep. Her stomach was the only thing that reminded her she was still alive. Sharp pains shot up through her stomach, almost making her queasy. She gritted her teeth against it, determined to at least control this.

Pretending she was all right had done nothing to help her. It had always been her most effective defense against the world; shoving all of her pain and past into the deep recesses of her mind. Summer had thought that she had succeeded, and would finally be able to make a new start of things after the sadness back home. But after the previous day, everything was rushing back to her worse than ever.

All she had wanted was acceptance and love, and perhaps some semblance of a family. While perhaps the other Hufflepuffs had attempted to give her a little of it, and on occasion Summer had allowed them this indulgence, it was nothing meaningful. She knew that they only invited her out of pity, despite the small, witty comments she had attempted to make at the start of term. It had all come to naught, and when Christmas break had started, she had thought to have found a small solace in brewing potions. That had quickly turned into a quiet happiness at being around Professor Snape.

The air was still and all Summer could hear was her breathing. Her thoughts insinuated their way into her mind, despite her efforts to contain them. But all that she could picture was Snape on the astronomy tower, his cold remarks like an arrow straight into her heart. Disgustedly, she realized the irony that the wounds on her body were caused by his cruel words, each one giving her a lashing.

But still she couldn't help but want to see his face, to hear his droning voice tell her how to cut mandrake root properly, or comparing her to other teenagers and seeing his light surprise when she proved to him that she really was abnormal, although she didn't appear so.

Summer didn't know how long she lay doing this. All she knew was that the room was slowly starting to get dark, and that Poppy had brought dinner in. She was trying to get Summer to eat, but she refused. The smell of food made her want to vomit. After perhaps ten minutes of Poppy trying to convince Summer to eat, the Mediwitch left again, leaving the tray of potatoes and chicken behind.

She had sat up after Dumbledore left, and was trying not to think about anything at all. Inspecting herself, she only saw light scars everywhere. Someone had done a nice job of healing her.

The door to the infirmary opened with a slight sound. Summer didn't look. She thought it would be Dumbledore again; perhaps Poppy had told him that she wasn't eating. But the clicking of heels quickly told her that it wasn't anyone she would have expected. It was Snape. She sighed inwardly and closed her eyes against the anxiety that was filling her. Madam Pomfrey had told her that it was Snape who had rescued her, and Summer didn't want to think about it.

His lank form sat down next to her. He seemed to take a deep breath, almost as if steadying himself.

"I certainly hope that situations like this will not arise again," he said somewhat coldly. Summer didn't say anything. He grunted in exasperation. "Be thankful that I was nearby. At least all you'll have are faint scars, and not deep mars." She glanced over at him, but his dark eyes weren't looking at her, but rather over her limp body.

"You didn't have to do anything," she lightly whispered. Her voice was hoarse, and she was starting to feel lightheaded.

"As if I was given a choice."

"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't _want_ to be bothered?" she asked angrily. "Someone like you seems to know that feeling a little too well."

He sat silently brooding for a few minutes. "I do know that feeling, and thank you for being the astute student we both know you are," he said in a silky but low voice. "But sometimes it is for the best to be bothered when in states such as that."

"And how would you know that?" she spit at him. "Nobody ever seems to bother _you_ when you need it most. You don't let them." It didn't matter who saw her angry or depressed. Especially Snape.

He didn't respond. Summer couldn't help but wonder at his change in attitude from the previous days. Almost always he had a scathing remark for her, but for once, he seemed dumbstruck.

"Just leave," she said softly, looking away from him. If he spoke to her any longer she wouldn't be able to handle it.

"I will not let a student order me about," he growled. Summer glared at him with pain, and it almost seemed as though he started to reach out to grasp her hand. Quickly standing up, Summer walked over to the other side of the room and stared out the windows. The night gown she was dressed in swirled around her ankles, making her shudder. She shouldn't have stood up – it felt as though she was ready to faint. _He didn't save me soon enough, as it appears I've lost a lot of blood_, she angrily thought. Her arms were clutched around her stomach, trying to soothe it as well as keep her balance.

Snape sighed in exasperation. He had come to stand behind her. "What is it you _want_?" he asked in a voice which indicated that he had given up with the _niceties_. He was definitely at a loss for words.

Summer whirled around at him, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she reached out to the windowsill to steady herself.

"Why should it matter to _you_? Yesterday you couldn't seem to anger me enough, and today you want to know what I want? You're such a hypocrite!"

"I did nothing of the sort. I simply stated the obvious, from my perspective, although it appears that you cannot see past that."

"What do I want. Do you honestly wish to know what I want, what I've wanted for three weeks?" she asked him. He glared at her, but nodded. "Fine then. I'll _show_ you what I want!"

After she had said that, she walked up to him and grabbed his upper arms with her weak hands. She tilted her head up and stood on her tiptoes, bringing her lips to his. Summer kissed him for a moment. Standing there stunned, Snape didn't move a muscle. When she broke away, she immediately turned around and went to stand at the windowsill again, tears streaming down her face. _He wanted to know, damn him_, she thought to herself.

Summer could feel everything that had held her up the past few months crumbling. Despite everything that should have been otherwise, she loved the Potions Master. She expected him to rail at her for being so stupid, or to leave the room swiftly. The last thing she expected was a gentle hand to grasp her shoulder and turn her around softly.

Snape's dark eyes were staring down at her, his face almost expressionless. A hint of surprise still mingled with his otherwise drab looks. Summer shook her head at him, trying not to sob. Why was it that he was the only one who could ever provoke emotion out of her?

She was looking to the floor, one of her hands wiping tears away. He grabbed her hand away from her face, and his thumb gently stroked her cheek, taking away the drops. She shivered, daring to look up at him. His hands were so soft, notwithstanding the amount of work he did with them.

He leaned down and kissed her back.

Summer never knew such sweet reverie could exist in one simple moment. He was holding her close to him, his lips soft and tasting like coffee. She could feel his pulse racing as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she wrapped her own around his neck. It was a gentle kiss, not necessarily a passionate one. While Summer wasn't inexperienced, she could never remember a simple kiss being something that made her want to faint and scream and cry all in one instant. It was the first time someone she _loved_ had kissed her.

It lasted but a few seconds, and when he released her, Summer felt elated. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the famed Potions Master. His hands were still limply draped at the small of her back, and she watched his face turn from a beautiful and kind one that she had often dreamt of, back into the infamous one he wore around the school. The gentle fingers that were on her back quickly retreated as Snape realized what had happened.

A scowl appeared on his face amidst the smile that Summer could see wanted to linger on his slightly-pink lips. His cheeks were flushed a bit, as well. The only indication of a farewell that he gave before stalking away from her, was a slight nod as he had pressed his lips into a thin line.

Summer collapsed back onto her bed, unsure of whether she was supposed to cry her heart out, or leap for joy. She had kissed him. _He_ had kissed _her_. Was happiness supposed to feel this depressing? She wasn't sure, and didn't want ask anyone's opinion on this matter. Laughing lightly to herself, she knew how crazy it would sound in the common room if she asked someone about what just transpired. So her sweet but sad reverie was kept quiet, and Summer finally took a few bites of the now-cold dinner that lay next to her bed.

- - -

**_Author's Note:_** Hey everyone! Yaaay. I do apologize that this chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I think the contents make it worth it, don't you? Hehe. Yay for kisses.

There aren't many comments I can tack on down here, so all I will say is: Thank you for the reviews, and for reading! It is much appreciated


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter 6**

Madam Pomfrey released Summer one day before classes were to resume. Summer spent the rest of that day hiding in her dormitory, not wanting to face anyone. She knew they would question her. They were Hufflepuffs, after all, and _did_ in some miniscule way care about everyone – _when it was called for_, Summer scoffed. She cursed herself for doing something so stupid out in the open. Now she would constantly be hammered with questions, as the scars on her face were still quite evident. The last thing she wanted was human interaction.

The next two weeks, classes went by without much difference. After a few meetings with Dumbledore, her housemates had stopped pestering her with questions, and now merely gave her looks of sympathy and pity. Summer couldn't decide which was worse.

- - -

Summer was packing up her cauldron, because her potions lesson had just gotten finished. She pushed some of her thick hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear, huddling in her robes. Winter was fully upon Hogwarts, and Summer still hated the cold that it brought. Somewhere from within her thoughts, she heard a voice call out her name.

"Miss Sundale, if you do not pay attention when you are called, I will immediately take away 20 points from Hufflepuff," a low voice rumbled. Evidently he had called her once or twice, as several other students were either staring at her or laughing. She looked up from the doorway and back over her shoulder towards Professor Snape. He was irate, and almost impatient.

Nothing more had come of that evening in the hospital wing. Summer was afraid to see him again, and had discontinued her potions work. The mere sight of him in classes made her shudder, though whether from desire or fear, she still couldn't figure out. For all she could assume, it was some combination of the two.

"If you will actually pay attention with that head of yours," he drawled as she walked over to his desk, "perhaps I can actually give this to you." He handed her a piece of paper which had potions written on it, and many of them were crossed off. It was her list that he had originally made for her over the holidays. The only difference was that on the top of the list was written, "Amortentia" in a scrawling script that was hard to decipher.

Summer studied this for a moment, still slightly confused. Snape glared at her, almost thrusting the list at her.

"I have not the time to dally. And as for the potion at the top, I need help brewing it for my sixth year classes. I assume that your extracurricular activities have not consumed all of your spare time?" he asked sarcastically, knowing well that she didn't have any activities to participate in.

Finally taking the list from his slender hand, Summer looked up at him. She tried not to think of him as anything other than a professor, or of how he had gently kissed her and made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered to him. Her green eyes captured his for a moment, and saw something flicker through his black orbs. She shouldn't have accepted. It was going to be sheer torture on her part, being around him, all alone again – this time with him knowing full well how she felt about him.

"Certainly, Professor Snape. When would you like me to come back down?" she politely asked. Her face showed no hint of emotion, and she planned to keep it as such. He didn't need a reminder of that embarrassing night, and she wouldn't be the one to cause him that pain.

"Tonight. After dinner." His response was curt, and Summer merely nodded to him before leaving.

All she could think about for the rest of the day was going back down to the dungeons. His face and his touch had infiltrated her every thought, and she wasn't sure how she was going to behave when alone with him again. But directly after dinner, she had the opportunity to discover that for herself.

When Summer arrived at Snape's rooms, she took a deep breath and knocked. The door opened and he merely looked at her before turning around again, leaving the way clear for her to enter. She did so and saw to her mild surprise that he was brewing some potions in the lab. _I haven't been here for two weeks. Obviously he's been doing the work I had taken up_, Summer told herself.

Without any spoken words between them, Summer got to work brewing the Amortentia Potion, taking a table as far away from Snape's work as possible. She would briefly allow her gaze to flicker in his direction, watching the way his hands moved, or how his movements were almost like a dance. Sighing to herself, she shook her head and returned to cutting up a fig root.

The next time Summer looked up, Snape was standing right next to her. She gave a slight gasp of surprise and almost cut herself.

"It seems you were not properly instructed in cutting roots," he told her. She merely stared at him, not knowing what to say. He seemed to roll his eyes and placed his hands over hers. "_This_ is how you are supposed to slice it." His hands were warm and soft, completely covering her smaller ones.

Summer looked up at Snape and smiled gently. "Thank you, sir," she said. He grunted and let go, assuming she would be able to _properly_ cut the rest. His touch still burned her hands, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling they had given her. _Who knew the Potions Master could be so warm,_ she thought.

After a time, Summer got bored while waiting for the Amortentia Potion to brew. It had to simmer for an hour, and she had nothing to be doing in the interim. She sat on the stool and got up her nerve to tell Snape what she had wanted to for a couple of days.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered lightly. Snape looked up from his cauldron and stared at her. His face gave no hint of malice, but it wasn't gentle.

"I did what anyone else would have done," he retorted. Assuming she was quite through, he went back to his potion, adding a few ingredients.

Summer sighed, realizing that he didn't fully know how _not_ everyone would have done that for her. In her mind, at least.

"I'm not sure anyone else would have." Her gaze had gone to stare at the bubbling cauldron in front of her. "You've been the only person I can almost call a friend, while at Hogwarts. Thank you." She tried not to let her voice waver, or to let her hands start to tremble. But they did anyway. Taking a deep breath, Summer looked up to see Snape glaring at her from across the room. She shook her head. "Never mind," she said in a sigh.

- - -

He was staring at her, still not quite sure why. She had thanked him. It was only to be expected, wasn't it? But yet she still insisted on calling him a friend, and thanking him again. Snape was starting to think the girl was mad. _She did kiss you_, he thought without realizing it. It had perhaps been the first time in many years that someone had even touched him, let alone shown that they actually cared for him. And here she was, putting it into words this time that she cared. He didn't know what to do.

"Miss Sundale… perhaps if you would refrain from speaking, we can actually get some work done?" he snarled. To his surprise, she smiled gently at him and tilted her head. Her auburn hair fell onto one shoulder, making her look even more beautiful than he already thought her. A slight giggle resounded throughout the chamber.

"Yes, Professor Snape." Good. At least she was getting back into her normal demeanor. He didn't have to worry about scaring her off, again.

"I couldn't help but notice, sir, that you seem unusually pale. Well, more than normal," she added in her light voice. "I hope you're feeling well."

"In all matters that concern you, I am perfectly well," he retorted. True, he hadn't been sleeping well the past two weeks, but she didn't need to know that. Nor did she need to know the reasons.

"Are you certain?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes, Miss Sundale, I am quite certain!" he barked. She was merely smiling at him and giggling again. Why she insisted on being so happy, Snape could only guess. But her laughter was so innocent and sweet, despite everything that had transpired. It still baffled him beyond recognition.

Summer had risen from her seat and was steadily walking towards him. She shouldn't be getting near him. Merlin knew how much he wanted to kiss her again, to taste her sweetness and feigned innocence. But she continued walking, coming to stand directly in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Snape held himself steady. Instead of him reaching for her, though, Summer placed a small hand on his arm. Snape was tempted to wrench her fingers off of him, but at the same time desired to pull her closer. He was only half-aware of her words, so strong was his inner battle.

"… tell me, Professor." There it was again. That sickeningly sweet smile.

"Tell you what?" he growled at her. His eyes flickered to the hand that was still lying on his upper arm. She pouted slightly, as if realizing that he hadn't heard everything that she had said.

"I said, that if something's wrong, you can tell me," she said softly. Her grip on his arm tightened for a moment before leaving. He still didn't know why he held back from people so much, even when he wanted to reach out to them, despite propriety.

"And as I already said to you, _nothing_ is wrong, as far as you are concerned." He was glaring at her again as she sat back down, gently stirring her potion. A sad smile was on her face, and Snape inwardly cringed.

"I know, sir," was all she said.

- - -

The next morning was Saturday. The students were allowed to go to Hogsmeade, and Summer decided to actually get out and maybe clear her head. Getting away from the school might do her some good, she decided. She awoke early enough to take a shower and eat a filling breakfast and headed to Hogsmeade earlier than most students.

She wound her way through to crowded marketplace, looking at all the shops. She had only made one other trip here, when she was looking for a few gifts for Christmas. Other than that, she usually had no reason to go. The shops were still foreign to her, and she gazed at each new sign with increasing interest. The one that caught her eye, however, was "Scrivenschaft's". With curiosity, Summer headed into the shop.

It was filled with parchments of all colors, along with quills, inks, and journals. Evidently it was a stationary shop. Summer walked among the shelves, picking up an item here and there, trying to find something worth buying.

For Christmas Summer had bought Snape a bound leather journal. A small item, perhaps, but one she thought he might enjoy. She had often seen him scribbling down information on a particular potion, so she thought he would like to have it organized in a way that he could find what it was he was looking for. A simple charm made the journal file itself, along with cross-referencing.

A small smile played upon her lips as she thought about the way his face must have looked when he opened the gift, along with the note explaining how to use it. She assumed it was perhaps one of the most thoughtful presents he had received in years, gathering how many of the other packages looked like socks. Summer giggled when she thought of Snape getting a pair of pink socks from McGonagall or someone of the like.

Rummaging through a clearance bin, Summer found a peacock quill as well as rainbow ink. She went up to the register and paid for her items before walking back outside into the chilly January air. With a small parcel in her cloak, Summer realized she was starting to get hungry. Trying to decide which direction to go in, she looked up and down the alley. A dark, stalking figure was walking in her direction. Smiling to herself, Summer walked towards him.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," she cheerily said. The image of Snape wearing pink socks flitted through her mind and she had to suppress another giggle.

He seemed distracted and almost jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Good afternoon," he responded. His eyes were looking anywhere but at her, and Summer found that intriguing.

"I was just heading over to the Three Broomsticks for a bite to eat. Would you like to join me?" Once again, he seemed distracted and far away. His eyes finally met hers, before he nodded.

"As long as you don't pester me with incessant questions as to my health, I will," he said. Summer smiled at him and his distant look seemed to come a little closer to reality. _It must be all in my mind_, she criticized herself.

The pair walked back in the direction Snape had been coming from. The streets were more crowded than they had been earlier, and Summer kept bumping into Snape. She continued muttering, "sorry," to him before he told her that it wasn't worth the effort.

Winding their way through the throngs of people, they walked into The Three Broomsticks and sat down at a booth opposite each other. Summer took off her cloak and huddled in the warmth of her sweater, smiling. There was no feeling better than warming up after a day outside in the winter snow.

"What would you like to eat?" she asked Snape. He didn't respond, so she continued. "Well, I'm going to go and get a warm butterbeer and a slice of pumpkin pie. Would you like some?"

"I am perfectly capable of getting my own drink." His voice was low and almost growling at her. Summer shrugged and walked up to the bar, grabbing items. Snape merely watched her eat and drink her butterbeer.

Looking up at him, Summer smiled with her eyebrows slightly drawn. "Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to eat something?" she asked him. He didn't respond. "I'm sorry to inform you, Professor, but that does get a little uncomfortable," she said after another minute or two.

"It was to my understanding that women enjoy it when men look at them," he retorted. That threw Summer off. It was the first time he had ever said something that indicated anything beyond a student-teacher relationship. It almost appeared as though he was being friendly and playful. Snape almost seemed to be smirking. Dumbfounded, she looked at him for a moment before responding.

"Look at them, yes. But not blatantly stare." Not able to handle the pressure, Summer started to laugh a little. "But in your case, they may much be the same thing." She took another bite of pumpkin pie, still smiling at him. The slight-smirk didn't seem to leave his face, but rather it almost intensified as though he understood exactly what she meant.

When they finally left The Three Broomsticks, it was starting to get dark out. Their playful banter had continued through much of the two hours they had spent there. Snape had finally gotten something to eat after she was done, thus forcing her to stay there with him. She had, after all, invited him. It wouldn't have been polite to leave. Not like Summer had really wanted to leave his company, anyway.

They walked back to the school in the increasing twilight. Other students were quickly walking past them as they continued in a slow stride. Walking into the castle, Summer looked up at Snape and smiled.

"Thank you for keeping me company, Professor Snape," she said warmly. It was the first time she had socialized since the summer. Feeling beyond elated, she was smiling at him.

He snorted at her comment. "I wouldn't call that company," he said. She merely shook her head at him before whispering softly.

"I hope that whatever was bothering you earlier is better." Before he could respond to her statement, Summer quickly leaned up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He glared at her and she smiled back. With that, she walked away from him, heading back towards her dormitory. She felt he deserved a little kindness once in a while.

- - -

**_Author's Note:_** I hope that this chapter lifted up the mood from the previous two! As much as I enjoy writing angst, I know that not everyone wants to read it. Besides, it's fun to picture Snape wearing pink socks! Especially if they're really fuzzy and sparkly! Haha. Anyway. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I'm trying to slowly build a relationship, so if you want to see Snape and Summer shagging, you're just going to have to wait :P This fic is supposed to be _somewhat_ realistic.

Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. It brightens my day:)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter 7**

A knock resounded on Snape's doors. He knew who it was before he opened the door to reveal a smiling Hufflepuff with auburn hair. With a gleam in her green eyes, Summer walked past him and into the lab. She hadn't said anything to him, which he found slightly odd, but he merely shrugged it off. He had given up trying to decipher her actions and words. She just didn't fit the mold of a normal teenage girl.

He watched her set up a cauldron and take out some ingredients before she looked back up at him, still smiling.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day, or are you going to help?" she asked. "Then again, women enjoy it when men look at them, don't they?" She started to giggle, and Snape merely rolled his eyes at her. He was starting to regret acting _friendly_ towards the girl. Walking into the lab, he did start gathering some tools to brew the next potion on the list. They had started working together, which made the work go by even faster. To Snape's surprise, he never found himself bored while around Summer. She was always saying something contrary to what he thought she would say. It was, in a way, comforting.

After about an hour of silence, Snape and Summer had moved into the study to eat a light lunch. He was staring into the fireplace before he felt something jab into his side. Looking over to his left, he saw Summer smiling innocently at him.

"What, pray tell, was that for?" he drawled at her. She had no right to go around poking him as though he were a button. She giggled, almost hiding behind her mug of pumpkin juice.

"Just a reminder that I'm still a thorn in your side," she responded amidst her giggling.

"I would appreciate it if you wouldn't _literally_ remind me of that. Your red hair is enough of a reminder."

"Maybe I should dye it black, then?" she asked. Snape glared at her before taking a strand in his fingers. Looking as though he was inspecting it, he snorted.

"I am afraid to tell you, Miss Sundale, that your hair is damaged enough. You would be better off merely chopping it all off," he remarked before letting go. It had felt so smooth, so silky. And she hadn't even cringed as his finger had drawn near her. She was merely smiling at him.

"I did that twice already. While it was fun to spike my hair for a time, I do rather enjoy it long." She was smiling at him. Snape knew that his face showed a little surprise. He couldn't imagine her long hair being only two inches long and spiky. Apparently too much for Summer to handle, she started laughing. It was a rich laughter, one that made Snape's senses tingle and want to laugh with her. But it had been years since he had laughed. All he allowed were the slight tuggings of a smirk to linger.

- - -

She could see how much he wanted to laugh, how much he wanted to smile when he was around her. The distant look that she saw him with almost always disappeared whenever she stopped to say something to him. It was in small, little ways such as this that the evening in the Hospital Wing had continued.

A loud crashing and hissing reached her ears. Perking up, Summer put her mug on the coffee table and looked towards the lab. Something had gone wrong. Very wrong. She stood up and ran over to the lab, despite the fumes that were being emitted from it, and despite Snape's yelling.

Her senses were almost overloaded when she stood in the entrance. She felt calm and at peace, as if she could stand there doing nothing; forever. Peppermint left her body cold and yet warm at the same time, relaxing her. The last thing Summer remembered before she collapsed, was a strong pair of arms grabbing her by the waist. Then everything went into a pleasant dream.

- - -

Snape knew that she shouldn't go near the room, at least not without protection of some sort. But she had to be stupid and walk over there anyway. She had ignored his protests, and he quickly followed her and held his breath, grabbing onto her and pulling her away from the mess. Looking down at the girl in his arms, he saw that she was passed out. He sighed to himself and easily lifted her over to the couch they had been sitting at. He laid her down on its cushions, quickly checking to make sure no permanent damage had been done. Thankfully, none was to be found.

He was kneeling down by her side. A serene smile was on her lips and he placed some of her hair out of her face. She was still warm. Muttering to himself, he sighed and went over to the armchair and sat down. Her breathing was soft, and he realized that she was merely sleeping, not knocked out. He got up and went into his bedroom to grab an extra blanket. Placing it over her body, Snape moved to go sit back down.

A small giggle emanated from Summer. Inquisitively, he watched her. No, she wasn't waking up – merely talking in her sleep.

"Dear, please come a little closer," she said softly. Her body writhed a little bit and a slight frown appeared on her face. "But I'm cold." Her voice dropped and all Snape could make out were soft mumblings. Ignoring everything that told him otherwise, he reached out to softly caress her cheek. The smile reappeared on her face and her voice picked up its volume again. "See, was that so hard, Severus?" Almost appearing to lean into his touch, Snape couldn't help but wonder at the dreams she was having.

He sighed to himself and got back up and went to the armchair. Shaking his head at his thoughts, he stared into the fire for a time before deciding to go clean up the mess that was waiting in the lab. A soft whisper reached his ears before he could leave the study.

"I love you," were the words to escape her lips. He stood, gaping at what she had said, before going back to what he had originally planned to do. It was a dream, that's all it was. Why would someone like her ever care for him? It didn't matter how much he wanted to gather her in his arms again and kiss her. She was of her own free mind and surely wouldn't choose a man such as himself to fall in love with. But then again, had he actually _chosen_ her?

Scrubbing at the floor and tables, Snape's thoughts ran in every direction. _She's your student_, one voice said to him.

_But you love her. It doesn't matter_, the other responded.

_It most certainly _does _matter._

_When did love know not to cross such boundaries? Albus would most certainly encourage you, Severus. It seems as though he has been doing that from the very beginning._

"Enough!" he yelled out loud. He was going to go mad if this inner battle continued.

Apparently his voice had awakened the being of his thoughts. He heard a stirring from the study and he angrily scrubbed harder at the table.

"Is… is everything all right?" Summer gently called through a somewhat sleepy voice. Snape looked up from the rag that was ready to bore a hole in the wooden table. She was leaning against the doorway, her eyes still looking as though they wanted more sleep. A serene smile was still plastered on her face, making it appear as though she was almost sleep-walking.

"Everything is _fine_," he retorted through gritted teeth. His gaze had quickly left her, not wanting to betray his normal demeanor. But she wouldn't allow him to be left alone, as he so desired. Instead, she walked next to him and placed a hand on his furiously-moving arm. Looking up, Snape's black eyes met hers. She was still smiling.

To his great surprise, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, huddling against his chest. He had stood up, almost trying to get away from this contact. It wasn't appropriate. But it felt so nice to have someone hold him, to want to be with him. His arms gave up the battle and wrapped themselves around the girl who was happily hugging him. Snape closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth from her body, and from the emotions flooding through him.

They stood that way for several moments, each enjoying the other's presence and feel. Snape didn't want this moment to ever end, for he knew that she would finally wake up and realize who she was holding onto, who she was showing affection to. When finally she started to pull away, he immediately made his arms drop and looked down at her. She was still holding onto him, although loosely.

Looking into her dark green eyes, he instantly knew that she wasn't still sleeping, nor was she under the influence of any potion. She was doing this out of her own free will, and almost as if to prove it to him, she leaned up and lightly kissed him.

His inner battle was instantly shattered as she kissed him, and he hungrily kissed her back, allowing his arms to wrap themselves around her lithe form again. He lips were so sweet and soft, and he lightly nibbled at them. She sighed softly and ran her fingers through his hair, making him pull her closer. Shuddering, Snape pulled away before things could get out of hand. While self-control was perhaps one of his strongest points, even the strongest man was able to fall.

Summer's arms were wrapped around his neck now, and her fingers were lightly playing with his hair. Curiosity overwhelmed him, and his gruff voice broke the stillness that had settled between them.

"Did you mean what you said?" She looked confused, and Snape almost regretted asking the question, berating himself for his stupidity. But after a moment she realized what he meant. She bit her lower lip and looked downwards. She looked beautiful that way, but it didn't matter. Her body language all but told him what the answer was.

"Yes." Her eyes had come to capture his again, this time with certainty in them. "I meant what I said." Unable to keep his joy to himself, Snape kissed her again, lovingly, trying to show her that he felt the same way. Sentiments were never his forte, so he tried to show it through his actions.

His lips left hers again, only to ask, "Why me?" She seemed to smile and almost giggle at his question.

"Severus Snape, you may be the hardest shell to break through, but underneath is an amusing man who accepts me for who I am. You are the only person I have been able to simply be _myself_ around, and for that, I am eternally grateful." Her lips caressed his again, making him shiver.

"Are you calling me a crustacean?" he asked her mockingly. Their foreheads were pressed together, and he could feel her warm breath on his throat. If she only knew what she did to him!

"Yes. You are a big, blue lobster," she said sarcastically before laughing. Before he could respond, Snape felt her lips on his throat. If there really was a heaven, then this was it, Snape decided. Running his fingers through her silky hair, he couldn't help but sigh at what she was doing to him. The beginnings of arousal were starting to awaken as her lips nibbled his throat, his neck, his ears. She had pressed closer to him in order to reach up to his earlobes, and was now gently nipping. He heard her sigh softly into an ear as he pressed back against her, the warmth in his groin no longer able to be held back.

"Well, now. It appears as though someone wants to play," she whispered into his ear before nipping it again. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was she actually trying to _seduce_ him? She giggled softly, sending shivers through him again.

Summer's hands were running up and down his back as she pulled back to look up at him with a slight grin. Snape raised an eyebrow at her before grabbing her and kissing her strongly. She moaned softly as he did so, stopping all other movements. Opening her lips slightly, Summer allowed him to kiss her deeply.

Somehow, the pair had walked into his bedroom. The ended up on his silken sheets, him laying on top of her. There she was. His for the taking. And damned if he was going to mess this up.

He knew he had the position of power this time. So he sat up on top of her and grinned evilly. Running one slender finger up her side, he watched as her eyes closed and she shuddered at his touch. Oh it had been too long since he was with a woman. He wanted to please her and kiss her and make love to her. But for the time being, Snape merely watched her reactions to his touch, as he slowly lifted her sweater, feeling her silken skin, running his hand over her breasts, feeling how warm and soft she was. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling, eliciting soft moans when he hit a particularly sensitive area.

Leaning down to kiss her again, Snape lost all control. Summer was his – it was a dream come true, for him, and he finally allowed himself to get lost in the moment, to get lost in the passion between them.

- - -

Warmth. Summer felt _warm_. Physically and emotionally. She didn't open her eyes, but reveled in the feeling of Snape's arm wrapped around her bare waist. Turning softly around, she looked at his sleeping face. It was so serene and lovely. The planes of his cheeks were softly illuminated by the sunlight that was fighting its way into the room, and his lips were parted slightly. He looked innocent.

Summer looked at the clock that was on the wall. It read seven thirty. _What day is it?_ she sleepily thought to herself. Then it occurred to her. It was Monday. And she had class at eight. Throwing the covers back, she counted herself lucky that she had awoken in time. She quickly got up and got dressed before sitting down next to the dark-haired man. Lightly kissing his temple, his eyes flickered for a moment before fully opening. He sat up and looked at her with confusion written on his face. Summer merely smiled gently at him as he got his bearings.

"It's almost eight. I thought I would wake you. I know you have a class," she told him. He groaned before falling back down into the mess of a bed. Shaking her head at him, she conjured up a mug of coffee (they usually didn't do that because it never tasted _nearly_ as good as hand-made coffee), and kissed him softly again before leaving for her class.

- - -

_**Author's Note**:_ Ahh!!! Did they actually sleep together?!? Yes! I believe they did! FINALLY! Gawd. laughs I hope I worked it in well enough, and that it doesn't destroy how you think of Summer. They're in love! sighs happily Yay for love. Anyway.

Thank you so much for everyone who has been leaving me reviews, and for my loyal followers. Special thanks go to:

TiredRaven Cylobaby Angelus-Cantus

and everyone else who has been leaving me amazing reviews. They make me happy. Like chocolate. Well, chocolate is still a little better. If it's dark. With hazelnuts. Mwahaha. Ahem. Thanks again.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter 8**

A glazed look was plastered on Summer's face the entire day. Her housemates looked at her questioningly, but she merely ignored them as usual. It was the first time in years that she could remember being _truly_ happy. Snape had done everything to make the night before perfect. He took things slow, listened to her, felt her reactions, did everything for _her_. No one else had done something purely for her. She felt light-headed and could hardly concentrate on her work in class. Once she passed Snape in the hallway, and Summer tried not to beam. She merely smiled softly and nodded. He lightly nodded back.

That night when she went down to his quarters, he wasn't there. Looking at her watch, Summer started feeling apprehensive. It was seven. Snape was never late for an appointment. Especially with her. He would have told her. Something was wrong.

She knocked on the wooden door again. No response. A slight frown forming, she undid the wards and slowly opened the door. Everything appeared normal. She entered the study and closed the door behind her. Snape was definitely not here. The only indication that he had been within his chambers recently was the fire burning brightly in the hearth.

The flames turned a distinct green hue. Sputtering, a head emerged from within them. Bright blue eyes twinkled up at Summer, and she couldn't help but smile as Dumbledore's hair and beard swirled within the flames.

"Ah! Summer! Good evening! I hope I'm not intruding on anything, am I?" he lightly asked. She shook her head in negation. "Good good. I was hoping to speak with Severus – is he there with you?"

"I just got here myself, sir. I haven't seen him." She frowned and looked away from the fire, towards the lab. "Frankly, I'm slightly worried. He was supposed to be here at 7."

Dumbledore frowned for but a moment before covering it up with his usual happy disposition. "Well, I'm sure he would want you to finish whatever it is you were working on. You know how Severus gets when a student doesn't do their work." His eyes were twinkling. "I'll see if I can find him elsewhere. Perhaps he's gone off to stalk Minerva..." His face fell with realization. "Oh, dear. Yes. That must be it."

Summer started to stammer out a question, but Dumbledore quickly vanished with a swift "goodbye". She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned down at the fire. Sometimes she wondered if the man was sane enough to take care of a ferret, let alone an entire school. Sighing, she went into the lab and stirred the potion which had been simmering all day.

- - -

"If you do not take that back this _instant_, Minerva, I swear I will hex you into oblivion."

Snape stood in the teacher's lounge, Professor McGonagall up against a wall with a broad smile on her face, despite Snape's wand held at her throat. She was almost laughing.

"Severus, you know it's not possible to keep a secret within Hogwarts. Even your students have been starting to comment on your behavior," she calmly explained.

Snape's cheek ticked in anger. He had just slept with a student. And she was _laughing_ about it? And she had _known_ about their blooming relationship? Bloody hell! His life was a mess. The last thing he needed was…

"There you are, Severus! I was looking for you in your quarters, when Miss Sundale informed me of your absence. I thought I should check on Minerva." Dumbledore had just walked in and was smirking. Both Snape and McGonagall shot him glares. "You know, Minerva, you could have been a little more subtle in your hinting during supper. And Severus, despite your best intentions, even _you_ cannot hide the healthy glow of love." Dumbledore chuckled to himself as Snape slowly lowered his wand.

"God damnit, I'm leaving. I quit! Find another potions master!" Snape spat as he headed towards the doorway. He could hardly deal with Summer's incessant teasing – he wasn't about to let his colleagues do the same. Stalking out the door, he heard Minerva say something to Albus. They both laughed softly. It took all of his strength to not go back in there and hex them both.

How dare they? Since when did they actually care about his relationships? It was none of their damn business! Above anything else, Snape was still appalled that they were _happy_ for him. He was in love with one of his students, and they were _happy_. The thought gnawed on his brain until he realized something Dumbledore had said. Summer was in his quarters.

_Bloody hell. Just throw another wrench into this equation, why don't you!_ he thought to himself. Growling as he walked, he made his way down into the dungeons. His footsteps echoed loudly off the stone walls, and he did nothing to hide the fact that he was mad. No, not mad. Angry. Angrier than he could remember being.

The door barged open and Snape could see her red hair immediately. She walked out into the study, smiling. She was wearing a white apron which was already stained with potions ingredients. A dark smudge overruled her left cheek. Despite the mess, she still looked beautiful.

"There you are! I was wondering where you were. Dumbledore popped in through the floo, looking for you, then ran off mentioning something about you stalking Professor McGonagall. I do hope everything went well?" she asked. Her sickeningly sweet smile was plastered on her face as she tilted her head.

"Get out." That's all he was able to muster within his rage – lest he hurt the girl more.

"I'm sorry?" she stammered, looking confused. She had stepped closer. No. She shouldn't do that. She never should have been anywhere near him. He was losing it.

"Get. Out," he growled at her lowly. Apparently sensing his wrath, Summer took a step back before setting her lips in a thin line. She nodded, took off the apron, and walked to the door. With one final glance from her dark green eyes, she left him.

Finally. Snape was able to let out all the rage, all the pain, all the longing, all the loneliness, all the warmth… all the hope…

He cast a silencing charm on his chambers before he started throwing anything within sight. The coffee table shattered into splinters, as did the two desk chairs. Cups were thrown, mixing amongst the crystal vials he had shattered. Dust clouded the air as he started throwing books from the cases, not caring what happened to their contents. He picked one up and was about to throw it, but his throat became clogged with debris. Taking a moment to cough, Snape held onto the book rather than throwing it.

He opened his eyes, and looked at the book within his long, slender hands. It was the journal. The one Summer had given him for Christmas. The only thought-out gift he had been given. Even Albus had failed to ever give him something _truly_ meaningful. And yet this… this… _girl_ had been able to figure him out well enough in less than four months.

Snape didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve the gentle smiles she gave him, the warm laughter that filled him, the soft kisses which made him melt, the love which poured out of her eyes…

She wouldn't be at Hogwarts anymore, come June. She would just leave him. And he had allowed her to wind her way into his soul. Past every possible barrier known to mankind. Past his cruel façade, past his sneering sarcasm, past his horrendous appearance, past his every attempt to keep her far away.

_She's so much like you, and in every possible way different_, a voice inside his head said.

_Then she should realize that she should go!_ he screamed back.

_She's just as scared as you_, it reprimanded him. Had it been a real person, Snape would have given him a death glare.

"I'm not scared," he whispered to himself, all the while knowing it was true. She had changed him. Change scared him. Minerva had shown him that at dinner. She had merely asked how Summer's extracurricular potions were going, but there was that damn scheming twitch to her face – she _knew_. He didn't want to change. Snape enjoyed being the greasy dungeon bat. The horrible git that no one loved. The monster that everyone stayed away from.

It was all Summer's fault. He would never let anyone get close to him again.

With sudden resolve, he threw the journal down amongst all the other broken pieces of his soul.

- - -

Summer walked slowly around the building. It wasn't curfew, yet. She was allowed to be out. She wouldn't have cared anyway. Her feet dragged her up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, her favorite lookout.

The air was chilly. No, it was cold. A biting wind howled mercilessly around the tower, despite the clear sky. The stars shone brightly, reminding her of nights she used to spend outside with her father, looking through a muggle telescope. She smiled softly at the memory – before she knew magic existed, before she knew how terrible her father could be, before she knew pain and death. Sometimes, Summer just wanted to be a child again. Like right now.

She shuddered. His anger had cut through her. She knew he had kept as much in as he could, at least until she left. But he was mad. Summer never wanted to see him hurt. Looking up to the stars, Summer pleaded for there to be a way for her to help him. But he had told her to get out. She wouldn't be able to go near him for a while.

Tears rolled down her face. He was the one happiness she'd had. The one thing she was able to cling to during the storm that was her life. Now she was starting to get lost among the crashing waves again, with no ship to save her, keep her afloat.

Was it so selfish to want a single person to love her? A single person who couldn't live without her? She couldn't remember ever having someone love her and care for her as much as Snape had the past few weeks. Well, aside from her mother, who had passed away four years earlier. Her father virtually orphaned her with his drinking, and when her sister left, Summer was left alone. So to have found such happiness, such hope that life didn't have to be like that…

Summer pounded a fist down on the stone. She was foolish to think that things could ever change. A moment of fleeting happiness had wound its way around her heart, and she didn't realize it for just that – fleeting. Berating herself, Summer realized that she shouldn't have expected anything more. Snape obviously wasn't. He was a man ten years her senior. Things didn't mean as much to him.

Of course he was going to take advantage of a young woman seducing him. Why wouldn't he? She was just a passing fling for him; nothing more, nothing less.

Summer turned to head back inside for a steaming hot bath. She had had enough of her vile thoughts. The cold was finally starting to get to her, although she doubted the cold within her soul would be leaving anytime soon. A bath always made her feel minutely better.

Wiping the remains of the tears, she looked up. There was Albus Dumbledore, a sad smile playing on his face. She shook her head at him and went to walk past him. As she was walking down the stairs, he followed her. And continued doing so for ten minutes.

At last Summer turned around to stare at the headmaster. He was looking at the ceiling, attempting to look as though he hadn't been doing anything conspicuous.

"Professor Dumbledore, is there something you wanted from me, or can I go sulk in peace?" she demanded of him. She had placed both hands on her hips. Her cheeks were trying to give her hair a run for its money, so flushed were they.

He completely ignored her question, but rather made an inane comment. "Sometimes all a cocoon needs is time." His light blue gaze finally came to rest on her, twinkling all the while. "Change isn't always easy, especially for caterpillars who never dreamed of becoming butterflies."

Summer continued to stare. Her mouth was hanging open at the headmaster's metaphor. All he did was smile at her and then walked away, leaving her agape.

For once, Summer agreed with Snape. Dumbledore was a rugged old man who knew too much.

- - -

**_Author's Note:_** Wow. Or, as I've come to say lately, HOLY POTATOES! Yeah. Um, yeah. It's been two months since I've updated this story at all. I'm sorry::hides from debris being thrown:: My legitimate excuse is that my laptop died, and I was forced to take a 5 minute walk to the library merely to check my email, let alone try and update.

Anyway! I know this chapter is short, and I apologize, especially since it's been over 2 months since I posted. After not thinking about the story, I sort of lost my train of thought, and now I'm trying to come up with a "plot". Any ideas would most certainly be welcome!

And now that I'm done with that rather long AN, I shall let you return to other FF readings. Please review. I'll give you a cookie! With hot cocoa ;)


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter 9**

Summer's dreams that night were plagued with images of Snape. His face hung over her like a shadow, never leaving.

She woke up the next morning dazed and confused. What was she supposed to do now? He was furious with her. And yet, Dumbledore seemed to think that Snape was merely acting childish. She smiled slightly at the thought. He did have a tendency to be childish at times, despite his hard exterior. Shaking her head at herself, Summer got dressed and ready for classes. She wasn't particularly looking forward to potions.

But when she got there, there was a notice that all of Snape's classes had been cancelled for the day. Furrowing her brow in concern, Summer slowly walked away from the whooping of her classmates. It wasn't like him to cancel classes, even if he was extremely perturbed. Something had to be wrong.

Almost as if on cue, Professor McGonagall came walking down the hall and stopped when she spotted Summer.

"Miss Sundale. I'm glad to have finally found you. It seems there is something Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you about," she quietly said to Summer. McGonagall's eyes flicked towards the closed potions door, and Summer immediately understood. She nodded and followed McGonagall quickly up the flights of stairs to Dumbledore's office. Once up the gargoyle stairway, McGonagall knocked and was immediately granted entry.

"I found her, Albus," she informed the headmaster.

"Ah! Good good," he replied with a smile. "Please, Summer, sit," he said, gesturing with a hand towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. Summer sat down and looked up at the old wizard expectantly. "It appears that our dear friend, Severus Snape, has managed to make himself ill." He looked towards Summer with a twinkle in his eye, a smile lighting up his face. "I do believe he is trying to break free of his cocoon."

McGonagall looked from Dumbledore to Summer, a look of bewilderment crossing her features. She crossed her arms over her chest in a huff, before demanding an explanation.

"Albus, what on earth are you going on about? How could Severus have 'made' himself ill? And what is this nonsense about cocoons?"

Dumbledore merely chuckled and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. He then looked over at McGonagall with the same smile he had given Summer.

"Love does wondrous things to people, don't you think?" he said offhandedly. Before she could retort, he continued. "Sort of like a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly, wouldn't you agree, Minerva?" She raised an eyebrow at him before sighing with understanding and nodding her head.

"While this is all so much fun, sir, I must ask why it is you requested my presence?" Summer said, speaking for the first time.

"Why, I thought that would have been obvious? Severus is much too proud to go see Madam Pomfrey about his condition, especially given how he came by it, and I thought it would be nice for him to get a visit from one he cares so much about. I would also request that you brew a potion or two to help him overcome this illness." He paused and looked out the window. "Although, I'm not quite sure it is a potion he needs… Hm. Indeed. I wouldn't suggest knocking. He will most definitely refuse you entry. Am I correct in assuming you know the wards to open his doors?" Dumbledore asked of Summer.

"Yes, sir," she replied. Her heart was pounding just thinking about the encounter that was going to happen. Simply burst in through his doors? Surely Dumbledore was mad. She was going to get cursed and hexed into oblivion, more so than if she had knocked and insisted on entering.

"Professor McGonagall, could you please escort Miss Sundale back to the dungeons and to Severus' chambers? I believe all will be played out nicely."

With that said, the two women nodded and left Dumbledore's office and headed back down to the dungeons. McGonagall was shaking her head and smiling the entire way down. As they reached the entrance to Snape's private chambers, McGonagall turned to look at Summer. She looked back, pushing some of her red hair out of the way.

"I never thought I would see the day when Severus Snape fell in love," McGonagall chuckled. "Well, dear, I wish you the best of luck. Try to remember that he has a large ego. He is a good man, somewhere in there." She patted Summer on the back and then left.

Bracing herself for the worst, her stomach turning in knots, Summer cautiously unwarded the door and walked in.

A fire was crackling in the fireplace, casting a warm glow through the dank study. Welcoming the warm, Summer quickly walked over to the door to Snape's bedroom. Without knocking, she opened the door. He was sleeping under the deep green comforter, his black hair tussled on the pillow. Leaning against the doorway, she smiled softly at his sleeping form.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to sit down next to him on the bed. His eyes fluttered open and he looked confused for a few moments. Summer smiled again, running the back of her fingers along his exposed cheek. Finally, he seemed to wake and assess what was happening. He sat up immediately, his cheeks flushing from the effort. Summer pulled her hand back and looked down at her lap.

"What are you doing here?" he growled at her. She didn't look up, but spoke down to her hands.

"Dumbledore wished for me to check in on you and help you feel better," she calmly explained.

"If I had desired any attention, I would have sent for Madam Pomfrey. You have no right to enter my chambers. I distinctly remember ordering you to get out last night. The invitation to enter was not reopened," he sneered. His eyes were livid, though from what emotion, Summer was unable to discern. A swirl of fear, love, anger, and hatred seemed to emanate from him. Summer just shook her head and stood up. She looked to the door.

"If you could tell me your symptoms, I will quickly brew the potion to ease them and return to my common room," she said matter-of-factly. She refused to get emotional. If he wanted to push her out, fine. She wasn't going to go through the struggle to get his love back. As much as she craved and needed it, she would not give him the satisfaction of breaking her. Too many times had she done that and been scarred. It wouldn't happen again.

Summer heard him lay back down in defeat. "Migraine, queasy stomach, and overall aching," was all he said. Without looking back, she nodded and made her way to his private lab to get started on the necessary potions.

- - -

For once in her life, potions did nothing to ease the storm in Summer's mind. Rather, the brewing process only brought her mind into better focus. Snape was in the next room, and all she could think about was how much she wanted to go up to him, kiss him, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. She wanted to tell him that she loved him and didn't think she could live without him. But until he lowered the walls he so carefully erected, she couldn't say a word to him, lest he be driven further away from her.

Stifling her tears and sniffles, Summer carefully poured the completed migraine potion into vials. It was the last one she needed to brew. She would be free of his presence for a time. _Who knows when I'll see him outside of class, again_, she thought to herself. Shaking her head, Summer grabbed the potions and walked into the study where Snape had relocated himself.

She stood in the doorway for a minute, just looking at his lank form. His nose was buried in a book, causing his black hair to fall in front of his face. The tip of his hawk-nose was just poking out, and Summer couldn't help but smile at the image. Perhaps he wasn't handsome in an orthodox way, but she still found him irresistible.

Coming out of her thoughts, Summer walked over to him and placed the neatly labeled vials onto the table in front of him.

"You should take these now, and again in four hours. I also brewed a dreamless sleep potion to help you rest and recover," she lightly said, carefully avoiding looking at him. He merely grunted in reply. "I'll be going now. If there is anything else you need, you can contact Professor McGonagall and she'll get a hold of me."

She sighed and gathered her things to leave. As her hand approached the door knob, however, Snape spoke.

"Coffee." Summer paused, furrowing her brow. She turned her head to look at him. He hadn't moved. She must have simply imagined hearing his voice. Why would he say something like that? She shook her head and went back to the door.

"How many times must I tell you, Miss Sundale, to listen when spoken to," he growled at her. "I require coffee, this moment."

Summer lightly smiled to herself before putting her books back down and heading to the mantle for the percolator.

As she was preparing the coffee, she responded to his statement. "How many times must I tell you, Professor, that I am not a house elf?" she asked. She looked up at Snape, her green eyes reflecting the smile on her face. His lips twinged in what would have been a smirk on anyone else's face.

- - -

He had simply given in. What else was there for him to do? He had been watching her from the study, seeing how slowly she had been moving. And when she pulled her beautiful red hair out of her face, he could see the pain in her swirling green eyes. And yet… she was so strong to not show it, to allow him to indulge in his childish and immature behavior. That, more than anything, made his heart melt and break the barriers he had so carefully built up. She was 10 years younger than he, but that made no difference to the amount of passion and love he felt for her.

Snape watched her make the coffee. It was this one small thing that had originally brought them together. That, and her inability to be hurt by his snide, sarcastic remarks. She _understood_ him and the way he acted in situations. She accepted it, and even fought back in a playful manner. She indulged him. Summer was one of the strongest women he had ever met. Despite the hardships she had been through, she still managed to smile so freely and laugh as though her life was perfect. And he was the one she had decided to share her life with. There was no greater blessing Snape could have imagined.

Out of no where, Snape grabbed Summer's wrist from across the table. She looked up into his black eyes, startled. Smiling as best he could, Snape pulled her into his lap. Summer looked up at him, not knowing what to make of the situation. He ran his fingers through the silken hair. Wrapping his arms around her, Snape held her close and inhaled her scent. It was heavenly.

He leaned so his mouth was next to her ear, then murmured, "No. You are much too beautiful for a house elf. Although it would be a pleasant sight to see you so scantily clad."

Summer pulled back slightly, staring at him. One of here eyebrows was raised, although a blush was quite evident. He smirked at her before leaning forward to kiss her. He tried to convey all the emotions he was feeling; the love, the freedom she gave him, the lust, the gratitude…

It was a sweet, lingering kiss. Her arms had wrapped around his neck, and he felt that they should always be there. She was his. He would make sure no one else touched her, while she was with him. The only other person he had ever loved had been taken from him… it was never going to happen again. Not with Summer, who reminded him of Lily in quite a few ways. He would die before he lost her.

Summer broke away from the kiss, and smiled softly down at him. _My beautiful angel_, he thought to himself. Snape smiled back at her, running a finger down her cheek.

"I love you, Severus Snape," Summer softly said to him as she leaned into his touch. Snape's smile broadened ever-so-slightly.

"I love you, Summer Sundale," he replied even softer. It was the first time he had said it to her. Because he finally admitted it to himself. He was ready to admit it to the world, now. He had fallen in love with Summer Sundale, the broken-now-whole, American, Hufflepuff.

He chuckled to himself. Summer looked at him incredulously.

"And what is so funny?" she asked. Nuzzling her neck, he replied to her.

"Who would have ever thought an evil Slytherin would fall in love with the perfect Hufflepuff?" She giggled, the vibrations across his lips an evil temptation. He gave in and suckled the skin on her throat, eliciting a soft sigh. Summer ran her fingers through his hair. She had no idea what she did to him, through the simplest touch as that. Softly moaning into her, he nipped her soft flesh. She tilted her head back a little to give him a better vantage point.

"Vixen, aren't we?" he murmured. She giggled again, but softer this time.

"Always," was her gentle reply.

"Mmm. Delicious. I could get used to that."

"Oh, really?" she asked. He raised his head to look at her. Running a finger across her lips, he stared into her eyes. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"Indeed." He kissed her again, with a little more passion. Suddenly, Summer stood up and walked away. Bereft of her presence, Snape growled slightly. He heard her laugh and saw her skipping into his bedroom. With a glint in his eye, Snape chased her into the room.

- - -

Albus and Minerva were drinking tea in the teachers' lounge, chatting about recent events, as well as the impending graduation ceremony which was to take place in less than a week. The other teachers had long since retired to their private quarters; many of them, specifically Severus, preferred to do grading within the comfort of their own chambers.

"It all turned out well, didn't it?" Minerva quietly asked. She was staring into the fire, a smile playing on her lips.

Albus chuckled, the twinkle in his eyes growing brighter. "As we knew it would. It was only time before someone wheedled their way through Severus' maze," he replied.

Minvera turned to look at the old man. "Did you know it would be her?" she asked.

"Not at first. But there were so many similarities between them, that I found it inevitable that they would find each other. After everything that has happened to each of them, this is their reward for seeing it through." Minerva started laughing, the echoes clearly heard through the room.

"Who knew that there was love left in the man, and that a young woman would bring it out."

"Who knew, indeed. But I have heard rumors from some of the students that Summer plans to stay at Hogwarts." He paused. "If I remember correctly, there was something she wished to speak with me about." He smiled down at his tea. "Perhaps they wish to be wed."

Minerva snorted. "When that day comes, I'll be sure to wear that atrocious gown you gave me last year for my birthday."

- - -

It was a warm, sunny day in late August. The lake at Hogwarts Castle was shining brightly and the giant squid was present. An array of students and teachers alike littered the lawn, talking amongst themselves. A horn sounded and everyone quickly took their seats in white fold-up chairs.

A lovely woman wearing white dress robes walked down the center aisle. Followed close behind her came a motherly-figure, wearing a bright pink ball gown, adorned with shimmering neon-green flowers. Albus watched in amusement as the two women walked past him. He chuckled slightly, and Minerva cast him an evil glare.

_I'll get you for this, Albus Dumbledore_, she thought to herself before smiling again and continuing to follow Summer.

- - -

_**Author's Note:**_ I am officially FINISHED! I am so proud of myself, even though it took FOREVER. I had major writer's block, and then my life got into a major upheaval. If you really want to know all the crap that happened, send me a message and I'll explain.

I love my Snapey-poo And he fell in love and finally allowed himself to indulge in it. Forever, hopefully! )

Critiques and reviews are most welcome, and I am grateful for everyone who has been here with me the entire time. And if you just found the story, I hope you enjoyed it! You didn't have to suffer through my lapses in writing ) Thank you all again!


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